More Days for Pyro: A collection of short stories with some plot
by wolverinedoctorwho
Summary: Join Nonbinary!Pyro and all your favourite ships through many misadventures, like bowling, car rides, crushing emotional trauma, and snowball fights. All romance is fluff, never smut. M rated for violence and swearing.
1. Shower Night

Pyro hummed a tune to themselves as they headed for the shower block. It was getting late into the night, nearing three am, but that just meant the rest of the team was asleep. It was the perfect opportunity for Pyro to shower. They usually avoided showering around the other members of the team, as their curiosity would inevitably get the best of them and they would try to peek into Pyro's shower. They had learned the hard way that Pyro didn't take kindly to peeks when a masked head came poking out from behind the shower curtain, angrily muttering at them and brandishing the fire ax that they always kept next to them. Pyro still took the ax with them, even for night showers, as they never who would be trying to quench their curiosity.

As the water turned on, Pyro began to strip off their suit and clothes. They preferred to wear shorts and a wife-beater under their suit. It was a light outfit, one that kept various body parts from flapping around during battle, and it was gender neutral enough to keep the men from speculating on laundry day.

Today's last respawn had left the Pyro in the body of a tall, pale woman with short, curly red hair. They spent a few minutes admiring their reflection in the metal shower walls, getting a pretty good idea of their figure. Some of the Pyro's incarnations were prettier than others, and they found their current appearance extremely attractive.

They stepped into the shower, leaving their clothes on the floor. They had brought a shower bag along with them, and busied themselves with washing and rinsing their hair, their thin but nimble fingers getting lost in the curls. They loved shower night. They loved the feeling of the water on their shoulders, so hot it was almost scalding. They liked getting to pretend to be someone else for a few minutes. They could imagine themselves as an attractive woman with an apartment and a rich fiance waiting for her at home, or a strong man working to avenge his brother lost in the war, or even a small child trapped in a battle between grown men. It was better-and more fun-than trying to remember their original body and origins.

Once they were sufficiently clean, they stepped out of the shower, putting on the clean set of clothes they had brought with them. Boxers, shorts, a bandage wrapping of a bra, and a wife-beater all slipped on before the rubber suit. They didn't really know how to clean all that rubber, and were glad it din't collect that much sweat and smell. They collected their fire ax, dirty clothing, and bathroom items, and then started the long trek back to their shack.

Scout gave a low whistle once he was sure Py was gone. Had she always been that hot? He hoped so. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head before sneaking out of the bathroom, as if afraid another team member was watching. He had been unable to sleep earlier, but had a feeling seeing such a hot babe on their team would give him good dreams for weeks to come.


	2. Bowling Alley Fun Time

[Author's Note: Holy dooly, this is a long one. But I don't know where I could split it up, so it's just really long. More notes at the end!]

* * *

Pyro curled up in the back seat of Sniper's van, struggling to fold their legs up under them while wearing their bulky rubber suit. They had taken on a more masculine form in their last respawn, and felt more relaxed about it. They didn't dislike feminine forms, but coming out of respawn sporting a pair of DDs was highly inconvenient when all you were wearing under your suit was shorts and a wifebeater. Transitioning the other way wasn't any better; then had often been suddenly constricted by a tightly wrapped bandage when respawn changed them into a broad-shouldered man, and had had to duck behind a wall to strip before they were strangled to death. They had somehow managed to keep their condition a secret from the other members of the team, and were forever thankful none of the BLUs had seen them changing during battle.

Pyro rubbed their arms, grunting slightly. Their current body, while certainly not a waif, wasn't as strong as their usual iterations, and carrying their flamethrower around had become a struggle towards the end of the battle. Their arms ached. Usually, there were constant to their transformations. Always a certain height, always fit enough to keep moving, and always small enough to fit in the suit. Today, though, they were smaller and weaker, and it was frustrating.

While they were thinking about the pain in their arms, Scout jumped over the seat and sat down next to them, grinning like he'd won the lottery.

"Hey dere, Py," he said with a smile. "We gotta long ride ahead've us. If you, uh, wanna sleep in my lap, I'd be ok wit' dat." He clapped a hand on their leg, expecting to feel feminine curves but getting muscles instead.

The look of confusion Pyro replied with, combined with their suddenly changed form, made Scout gulp. He scooted away from them, muttering "nevermind"s under his breath.

The rest of the team climbed into the van, all chatting or complaining about one thing or another. The van was bigger than it looked, but it still wasn't quite enough to fit all of them without a little squeezing. Engineer and Soldier ended up squished in the back with Scout and Pyro, and Demoman, Medic, and Heavy took the middle. Sniper took his rightful place in the driver's seat, and Spy took the passenger's seat like he always did. Nobody had ever objected to Spy sitting in the front. It was an unspoken rule to never break up Sniper and Spy unless they were about to kill each other, a rule that had Medic pouting as he buckled up next to Heavy. The Russian didn't notice the scowl on his German friend's face as he watched Spy lean over in his seat, whispering something in Sniper's ear. What he did notice, however, was Demo's slight twitching next to him. The Scot was sober for the first time in weeks, and it wasn't an easy transition.

"Is Demo ok?" He asked, turning to his friend. Demo nodded. "Aye, just a wee jittery's all." Heavy nodded, turning back to Medic, who was still focused on the pair in the front seat.

"Where is Sniper doing the driving to?" he asked, snapping Medic out of his jealous concentration. He turned to Heavy, having not registered a word the Russian said. "Eh?"

"Where is the Sniper driving to?" Heavy asked again, cleaning up his grammar. Medic shrugged uncharacteristically. "I don't know. Er, Zniper!"

Sniper paused his conversation with Spy, turning around to face Medic. "Wot?"

"Vere exhectly are ve goingk?"

Sniper's ears went red as he realized he hadn't actually told any of the mercs where they were going. He had managed to convince them all to come along with a series of convincing lies and persuasive speeches that would have made Spy proud. He looked around the van, wincing when he saw that all of the mercenaries were now silent, waiting for his response.

"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "Oi thought it'd be noice if we could all get out fer a change. So...uh...it's a surproise! That's wot it is. A surproise. So you all just need ta shaddup fer half an hour, and we'll be there. Alroight? Alroight." He turned sharply around, starting the van and driving out of the base as fast as possible.

Six men (and a Pyro) looked at each other, shrugged, and went back to what they were doing. Medic, however, managed to wrench his attention from the argument in the front seat to watch the argument happening in the back seat behind him. Scout and Soldier were arguing over, of all things, seat hogging.

"Dere ain't enuff room back 'ere for all've us wit youse hoggin' da seat, Sol!"

"I AM NOT HOGGING THE SEAT!" Soldier screamed (he was always screaming). "I CLAIM THIS SIDE OF THE SEAT FOR AMERICA!"

"I'm American too, ya dumb helmet-head! Now scoot ovah!"

There was a quick scuffle between the two of them, but before Medic had time to pull the reasonable adult card, Engineer beat him to it.

"Y'all stop actin' like fools," he said, loudly enough to be heard but softly enough to not be yelling. He had this way of being really intimidating without raising his voice above a normal speaking tone, and several stage actors would have been jealous of his ability to project. Scout and Soldier lowered their shoulders like children who'd just gotten grounded, and sat back in their chairs, leaving a very noticeable space in between them. Pyro wasn't particularly comfortable with Scout pressing them against the window in an effort to get away from Soldier, but they didn't complain. It was better than listening to arguments.

All was quiet for about half an hour, and then they had to stop for Demo to puke up his breakfast. "Carsickness," he claimed as he climbed back in the van.

 _"Da,"_ thought Heavy, _"avtomobil' bolezn', a ne alkogol'."_ He turned to Medic to get a glimpse of his thoughts. The man could be calculating and severe, but he had his way of showing his true thoughts through a variety of facial expressions. Right now, however, he was leaning against the window, staring out at the plain, dusty scenery around them. He was thinking of places they could possibly be going, places Sniper would take them, and then he was thinking of places he'd like to take Sniper and he had to stop because he was blushing. He was not a man who enjoyed the sensation of blushing, even if he did enjoy the stimulus. He preferred not to wear his emotions on his sleeve, so of course he always ended up doing so indirectly.

 _"Vrach krasneyet,"_ Heavy thought. _"On dumayet khoroshiye mysli. Ya ne budu yemu meshat'."_ Instead, he sat back, looking over at Pyro, who was also staring out the window. And Engineer, who was also staring out the window. And Demoman, who was...leaning against the window for support, but that wasn't the point. Heavy found himself incredibly bored. It wasn't even fun watching Sniper and Spy bicker in the front; their argument had finished long ago and now Spy was looking out the _proklyatiye_ window. Heavy wanted to scream. What he did instead, however, was much more productive.

He fell asleep on Medic.

Medic snapped out of his smutty thoughts when he felt the almost crushing weight of Heavy leaning on him. He objected in broken Russian, but Heavy was a fast and heavy sleeper (pun not intended) and was soon sprawled over Medic's lap. Medic turned bright red.

"Where'd you learn Russian, Doc?" Engineer asked, tearing himself away from the scenery and memories of Texas. "I didn't know you spoke it."

Medic turned even redder. He struggled again to push Heavy off of him, but to no avail. He sighed, sat back, and resigned himself to his embarrassing fate.

"I heff been studying it," he explained. "Somzing to keep ze mind refrheshed, ja?"

Engineer grinned, the kind of grin you give when you know someone's lying and you know what they really mean. "Sure. Alright." He turned back to the window, back to his dust and cacti and fiery cowgirls named Irene.

Medic looked down at the sleeping Russian mess in his lap and sighed. Heavy was a pretty cute sleeper, Medic had to admit. His sleeping face almost made Medic want to fall asleep with him. _"Mit ihm neben ihm, natürlich,"_ he reassured himself. He rubbed his eyes, placing his head against the window. It wasn't comfortable, and every time they went over a bump his head banged against the window, but he got used to it, and he had a warm blanket on his lap to lull him to sleep.

By the time they got to their destination, almost everyone in the van was either asleep or staring out the windows. It had been a long, tiring week. Sniper honked his horn once he had parked. "Alright!" he yelled over the groggy groans from behind him. "We're 'ere. Everybody out!"

The nine mercenaries slowly roused themselves and made their way out of the van. Medic nearly hauled Heavy out of the van, and he woke up about halfway out. Soldier and Scout climbed out of opposite sides of the van, and Pyro followed Engineer out of the van. Spy was out in a flash, apparently having only been half asleep. Demo was almost left behind, but Soldier made sure to wake him up and drag him out of the van. Everyone started yawning, chattering, and stretching, only falling quiet when they saw where they were.

"You brought us to a _bowlin' alley_?" Scout asked, incredulous.

Sniper's ears went red. "It's league night, alroight? Oi figured we'd 'ave sam fun. Now cam'on, we ain't got all noight."

The other eight mercenaries looked at each other, each mentally debating whether or not to leave Sniper here and have Medic drive them back (as he was the only one with a US driver's licence). They all turned to Medic, who was thinking hard as well. _"Nun wäre es eine gute Gelegenheit, Herrn Sniper zu beeindrucken,"_ he thought, and he stepped forward, forcing Heavy to stop leaning on him.

"If Sniper stays, I vill stay as vell," he said confidently, standing next to Sniper. Sniper went red with gratitude, while Spy scowled behind him. Not to be outdone, Heavy stepped forward to join Medic. "If Doktor stays, Heavy stays."

The rest of the group mumbled amongst themselves, then turned to Engineer. Engineer was the only one good at convincing Medic to do things, and his vote would sway even Heavy's.

"Why not. Sounds fun to me. Besides, when was the last time y'all actually went out'n had some fun?"

"Earlier today, in that free fer all," Scout sassed, rolling his eyes.

"That's not my point, boy. You're a kid. A youngin. You've got plenty'a years on you. So go out'n have some fun for a change, live your life."

Pyro muttered something at Engineer's shoulder.

"Yes, Pyro, there are probably some pretty girls in there for him to flirt with."

At that, Scout perked up, his usual cocky grin coming back. "Then what are we wait'n for? Let's move!"

The other two mercenaries were in no mood for arguing (and not legally allowed to drive), so they shrugged and went inside with the rest of the group.

The bowling alley looked relatively new, sporting colour schemes and disco music from about ten years ago. The place was too damn "hippy" for Soldier, but the rest of the team eventually got him to stop screaming about it. They crowded into two lanes while Sniper and Medic struggled to figure out everyone's shoe sizes for bowling shoes. Their absence gave Spy the opportunity to slide into a seat next to Heavy.

"Vash vrach stanovitsya slishkom druzhen s moim snayperom, "He muttered in perfect Russian. Heavy shrugged. "Vash snayper stanovitsya slishkom druzhen s moim vrachom."

Spy snorted. Alright. Harassing the Heavy was not the way to go about soothing his jealousy. The Russian felt the same way about Sniper and Medic's interactions as he did.

When Sniper and Medic came back with the last trial-and-error pairs of shoes (Soldier and Demo weren't helping, and Pyro's shoes didn't have a number size on them), Engineer started working at the scoring machines. This bowling alley had an automatic scoring system, the first of its kind, and all that Engineer had to do to get it started was enter player names. He thought about asking for real names, but thought better of it. Part of their contract was anonymity, and he didn't want to break it over something like this.

"Alright," he said, "Demo, Sol, Heavy, and Spy are on my left. Sniper, Spy, Scout, and Pyro are on my right."

Pyro mumbled something, pointing out that that left Engineer teamless.

"Oh. I guess I'll go with you, Py. Sorry to make it uneven, fellas."

Everyone shrugged and sat down with their teams. Heavy couldn't help but notice the look of seething jealousy hiding under Spy's mask as Medic and Sniper chatted. Spy had never hated Medic, in fact he thought the man an intellectual equal, but the second Medic became a rival for Sniper's affections, he became an enemy.

A target.

"My budem bit' ikh vmeste," Heavy said, trying to be encouraging.

"My budem delat' bol'she, chem bit' ikh," Spy said, grinning sharply. "My budem delat' ikh nenavidet' drug druga cherez ikh poteri. "

Heavy was frankly disturbed by the amount of malice in Spy's words, but he couldn't blame the Frenchman. Seeing his doctor smile and laugh with the Australian...it ignited something in his chest that made him want to beat Sniper into the ground.

Both Spy and Medic watched Sniper as he got up to bowl. He'd picked his ball with care, and lifted it like it was nothing. He bent over a little as he looked at the pins, unaware of his two-man audience. Suddenly, he marched forward, rolling his ball with practiced preciseness. It rolled down the lane, a touch right of the centre, and the force knocked over every single pin. He spun around, pumping his fist, only to blush when he saw everyone staring at him.

Spy was next to go, and he took his sweet time getting up there. He caressed Sniper's ball before gracefully lifting his own, tilting his head back slightly to make sure Sniper was watching. The Australian's ears were bright red, a good sign. Spy had never actually bowled before, but he was a quick learner, and in a matter of seconds had pushed his ball down the lane, one leg lifting into the air as he touched the ball to the wood. He flounced back to the ball return, smirking at the enraptured look on Sniper's face, barely even registering the sound of a strike behind him. He winked at Medic, who looked at him in surprise. He hadn't expected the Frenchman to fight back. He stood up, walking over to the lane. Before he picked up his ball, however, he took off his long white lab coat. He had thought about leaving it behind, but it had been a little bit cold out today, and he liked the pockets. Now, however, he hung it over a chair, revealing his tight grey sweater underneath. His black pants were form-fitted as usual, but his sweater was the perfect combination of tight and loose to show off what muscle he had without looking too small. He combed a hand through his black hair, fingers tracing the streaks of grey, and he looked back at Sniper with bedroom eyes. Sniper went even more red than before, but Heavy started with such force that Spy was worried the Russian planned on leaping out of his chair and tackling the Medic with impure intentions. He put an arm out to hold the larger man back as Medic strutted down the platform and rolled the ball, not lifting a leg like Spy but showing off his grace all the same.

"Konechno, vy ne ozhidayete, chto ya soblaznit' medika? " Heavy asked as Medic moved to pick up his spares. Spy smiled, shaking his head. "Net, no ya veryu, u vas yest' svoi sobstvennyye puti."

Spy released his tight grip on Heavy as Medic moved to take his seat, and Heavy was unable to stop himself from giving Medic a high-five as he passed the smaller man. Medic blushed slightly, almost having forgotten Heavy in his quest to woo Sniper.

Heavy wasn't as graceful of skilled as the three previous bowlers, but he was quite a bit stronger. That proved to be a disadvantage, however, when he nearly threw the too-light ball down the lane, tossing it right into the gutter. Medic couldn't help but smile at the cute way Heavy's shoulders slumped, and at the fire in his eyes when he turned around to get a heavier ball. His next roll was a little better, as he tried to be more gentle. He only managed to knock down half the pins, but he considered it a victory nonetheless.

The game seemed to fly by. Demo could barely stand enough to roll the ball, and when Scout grabbed a metal bowler for little kids as a joke, he was surprised when it actually helped Demo improve. Soldier was good at rolling the ball straight, but not at aiming it, and half his rolls went into the gutter. Scout, like Heavy, struggled with using a lighter ball than he should have, but he was expecting a game more like baseball. Engineer was pretty good at bowling, explaining that there wasn't much else to do where he grew up, but Pyro's loose suit made rolling the ball nearly impossible, and they found themselves borrowing Demo's child roller just to avoid driving themselves insane. The scores were tilted to Sniper and Medic's side by the fifth frame.

Medic realized about halfway through the game that he was spending more time focusing on Heavy than Sniper. Sure, Sniper was attractive, and something inside him burned when he watched Sniper lean over to bowl, but his heart fluttered when he watched Heavy's earnest attempts, his slumps of defeat, his sheer determination, and his little cheers of victory when he scored high. Heavy was _cute_ , Medic realized.

As they reached the end of their first game, Medic's attempts to seduce Sniper became less obnoxious, while Spy only amped up his game. He had Sniper blushing ear to ear, face hot enough to fry an egg. Now Medic was the one holding Sniper back, and he felt less jealous with every turn. He noticed the way Heavy would smile at him when he thought the doctor wasn't looking, and managed to catch the Russian off guard with a few caught smiles of his own.

The game ended up in Medic's favour, as the larger amount of capable players on his team easily beat their other half. Medic was surprised when Heavy raced forward, picking him up in a crushing hug. "Good job, Doktor!"

"But you lost, Herr Heavy."

"But Doktor won. Is victory either way."

Medic smiled. He didn't even notice Spy marching over to Sniper, grabbing his hand and dragging him outside for a "cigarette break". Scout rolled his eyes. He was gonna need some water bottles if these old men were gonna keep being so thirsty. It was bad enough watching Spy and Medic act like total whores up there, now he would have to listen to Spy and Sniper flirt the whole way back. He shuddered with revulsion, the way a child might do after listening to their grandparents flirt.

Pyro was grinning under their mask. Though they never managed to communicate it, they were secretly very invested in the romantic lives of their teammates. They lived for the moments of indirect communication between team members, for the side glances nobody else caught, for the verbal tics only lovers caught on to. They were, to define it in a way that wouldn't be invented for at least forty more years, a shipper. They even payed attention to Soldier and Demoman, even though their relationship was more of a background thing. The only two people they couldn't place were Scout and Engineer. The two of them certainly didn't go together, and they felt like Engie had someone waiting for them back home, but Scout was just a lonely little boy who needed some love. And Pyro wasn't really interested in giving it to them.

After Spy and Sniper came back in, another game was started, this time with Demo, Sol, Heavy, and Medic on one team, and Pyro, Engineer, Spy, and Sniper on another. Scout walked off to go play some arcade games and see if there were actually any pretty girls around. This game went smoother, even though Demo and Sol didn't get any better at their game. Medic even managed to give Heavy some pointers, which brought a warm smile to the Russian's face. Spy and Sniper were more or less in each other's arms the entire night, while the other two couples were more subtle.

Engineer looked over to Pyro at one point. They were the only person not focused on somebody else. They alternated between staring at the couples to trying to see where Scout had run off to.

"Say, Py," Engineer said, but it was Pyro's turn and they got up to bowl. Engie sighed. He still wasn't sure about the little flame baby. He just wanted to go up and hug 'em, but it wouldn't make sense to either of them if he did that. He put off his thoughts of romance vs platonic-ism long enough to bowl, but then he and Py were sitting next to each other again, and the train of thought wasn't leaving the station that easily.

"Pyro," he said, a little louder this time. Pyro turned to face him. It occurred to Engineer that he had no plan whatsoever, and was losing time.

"Good job out there, with the bowling," he came up with. Pyro made a noise of contentment, and though he couldn't see their face, Engie knew Py was smiling.

Eventually they finished the second game, and Demo started to pass out in his chair, which signaled that it was time to go back to the base. Pyro walked off to grab Scout, while the rest of the group headed for the van.

Scout was playing skee ball. He was worlds better at it than bowling, though his underhand could still have used some work.

"Whaddaya want, Py?" he asked, not turning around. Pyro mumbled something.

"What? Is it my turn ta bowl? Did Lil' Timmie fall down a well?"

Pyro rolled their eyes, grabbing Scout's arm. They pointed to the door. Scout sighed, rolling his last few skee balls with lightning speed and pocketing his tickets. The two of them walked outside to the van, climbing in the middle. Sol, Demo, Heavy, and Medic were in the back this time, leaving Engie, Scout, and Py to take the middle. Demo passed out in the back almost immediately, with Soldier close behind. The two were both simple-minded, and what one did the other would usually copy.

Heavy had gotten the window seat this time, and faced with the option of leaning towards Heavy or sitting upright next to the snoring Soldier, Medic chose the former.

"Herr Heavy..." he asked, hesitating. This was an awfully awkward question. "Vould you mind if I vere to-"

Heavy just about grabbed Medic, pulling him in closely. He grinned triumphantly. "Heavy does not mind if Doktor is sleepy. Long as Doktor does not drool in sleep." He laughed, and Medic found himself laughing along. "I asshure you, zhat is not zhe case." He curled up next to Heavy, who turned in the seat to make it more comfortable for the both of them. Scout scoffed and rolled his eyes from the seat in front of them. "Gross," he muttered.

"You jealous, Scout?" Engineer smirked. Scout scowled. "Course not. It's just embarrasin', alright? Now can it, or I will throw your ass outta this van."

"I dunno who you think yer throwin' outta my van," Sniper cut in from the front, "But you break anything'n you'll be outta here wif'im."

Scout went red, and folded his arms, turning to the window, pouting. He occupied himself with counting stars and imagining all the hot babes he could bring in if he knew all the constellations.

Pyro yawned, stretching in what little room they had in the van. Engineer smiled at them. "Tired too, huh?" Pyro nodded. Engineer leaned against the window next to him. "You can lean on me, if you want. I'm thinkin'a going to sleep too, though, so I might not make the best pillow." Pyro tried to refuse at first, but they were really tired. Eventually found themselves slumped over on Engineer's lap, fast asleep. Engineer ran a hand down Pyro's face and body, rubbing the top of their mask the way one might rub a child's head. It was strange. A few days ago, Pyro had thrown themselves on top of Engineer to avoid Sniper fire, and their body had felt distinctly feminine, with a springiness under their mask that suggested a lot of hair. Now, though, they were more masculine, like a figure skater, and it felt like they were almost bald under the mask. That just gave Engineer another think to think about as he drifted off to sleep against the window.

"Spook?" Sniper asked, turning to the Frenchman for conversation, but Spy was already asleep, lightly dozing against the car window. Sniper admired Spy for their ability to fall asleep anywhere in a matter of seconds. It was a skill earned by spies who were used to having to wake up and fight at a moment's notice, a skill Sniper hadn't had the need to learn. Still, he thought, it would be nice to be able to pass out like that. He steadied his hands on the steering wheel, peeking back at the sleeping mercenaries behind him. Tonight had been fun. Sure, a little embarrassing, but fun. It had been kinda cute watching Spy and Medic fight for his affection. He thought Medic was hot, of course, but Spy...There was just something about Spy that infuriated him, and yet was endearing to him at the same time. He would never admit to having a crush on Spy, but...just the knowledge that the Frenchman was next to him in the van made him feel safe and warm. And it felt good knowing Spy could get jealous. He'd have to use that to his advantage in the future.

As Sniper focused on the road and the long drive ahead, Scout sat back in his chair. He sure as hell wasn't starting a conversation with Sniper. No way. Scout hated Spy, so naturally he hated anyone who liked Spy the way Sniper did. Scout wasn't an out-and-out homophobe (he had an uncle who had brought a boyfriend to their last Thanksgiving), but every time one of the other eight mercenaries looked at each other with those goddamn goo-goo eyes, he wanted to either punch something or throw up. Or both. It wasn't the romance. It wasn't the sex. Hell, it wasn't even entirely the age of the other mercs. Every time he saw another pair of mercs couple up, it was just another two people he couldn't turn to when he inevitably went mad from the lack of sex. Scout was as straight as a baseball bat, but he was a firm believer in the need for human contact, and he hadn't seen a woman in months.

Well, a woman other than Miss Pauling.

Miss Pauling was the most beautiful woman Scout had ever seen, and that wasn't just his hormones talking. She had a nerdy quality to her that Scout hadn't even known he had liked. Back in high school, he was always chasing after the cheerleaders or the other jock girls, girls who could keep up with him and could keep their skirts just a few inches shorter than the others. He'd never had good grades, though he did well enough to pass. But Miss Pauling, oh, she made him wish he could take high school all over again. Hell, he'd redo all four years and get top marks if it meant he could go out with her on just one date. She was so goddamn cute, with her perky nose and her always-messy bun and her shirt buttoned down just enough to cool her off but not enough to appear unprofessional. His chest fluttered whenever she came by for base inspection, and he always made sure his room was spotless when she checked it. If he could just talk to her, just for five minutes...but he knew it was pointless. The Administrator worked her so hard, she only got one day off a year. She'd never have time for dates, or sleepovers, or even talking to a kid like him. He sighed out loud, thinking about her.

When Sniper finally pulled into base, it took both Spy and Scout to rouse the sleepy mercs and guide them all back to their rooms. Heavy carried Medic back to his room, ignoring Scout's confused protest. Engineer walked Pyro out to their shack, putting their thermal blanket over them before smiling and heading back to his own room. Demo and Soldier didn't even make it back to their rooms before passing out in the hallway. Sniper bid Scout and Spy farewell before heading back to his van for the night.

...

 _"Hello? It's me. I'm sorry. Were you asleep?"_

"Of course not. You know me. What's up?"

 _"I just had to hear your voice. I couldn't help myself."_

"Aw, that's so sweet."

 _"I feel I may become a bit reckless no longer working under my boss."_

"So what if you become a bit reckless? You should feel free. I'm working right now on an assignment the Administrator gave me. You're the lucky one."

 _"Thank you for saying so. My normal personality isn't really like the one you saw the other day. Now that I'm no longer an assistant, I can show you what I'm really like more."_

"I'd like that."

 _"The night is so peaceful when I don't have to work. I always used to hear the sound of rummaging through documents, typing and drinking from an empty cup at this hour...but tonight is so different. The leisure of feeling the cold air, the voice of someone I like, and my dreams for the future...I really like this change."_

"I get it. It must be wonderful. I feel the cold air too, but not quite the same way. It's a little colder where I am."

 _"I'm so happy...that I can hear your voice when I have nothing to do."_

"I'm just glad to talk to you while I'm working. It makes work so much more fun."

 _"...Yes, I should tell you. I like you, a lot. It's a polite kind of liking, but I really like you. I'm so lucky. I'm very grateful that you chose me...I'm so glad to have met you, to know you...Although it's just through a phone, I'm grateful to God that I can exist in your world..."_

"I don't know if God had anything to do with this...but I feel the same way. Talking to you makes my whole day better."

 _"Thank you so much for listening to me. I'm happy I could talk to you as a friend and not an assistant."_

"I hope I can join you someday in your coffee shop. I bet you make the best coffee. Should we go out sometime? We totally should. I think I've got an assignment in your area...oh, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

 _"Haha. Have a good night. I pray that you have good dreams."_

"You too! Love you!"

 _"Bye..."_

"Bye!"

Pauling hung up her phone, smiling. Talking with her girlfriend always brought a smile to her face. She was another beleaguered assistant, working under an even more unreasonable boss, but with Pauling's help and encouragement she had quit her job and started up a coffee shop. The other woman was incredibly polite to the point of cuteness, but she could be curt when she had to. She had short brown hair and wore glasses, though Pauling had to admit her girlfriend wore them better. She would get all sorts of calls throughout the day from her girlfriend, asking if she had eaten, what she was doing, what she was doing that night. Pauling was always incredibly busy, but she always had time to talk to her girlfriend. As long as she kept completing her jobs quickly and efficiently, the Administrator didn't care what kinds of romantic partners Pauling had. Pauling wasn't exactly...interested in sexual activity. She had thought about it a little in her teens, but it wasn't really something that appealed to her. She was perfectly happy with romantic attraction, having never had sexual feelings towards anyone in her entire life. She did prefer women over men as romantic partners, however.

She pushed the thoughts of romance out of her mind, tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear, and went back to digging. She had paused in her digging to call her girlfriend, but now picked up the shovel with vigour. The sooner she was done burying these bodies, the sooner she could go to bed and think about her girlfriend.

* * *

[Author's Extended Notes:

*All the Russian and German comes from Google Translate. I imagine the ESL members of the team thinking in their native language because it makes sense to me. If you wanna know what they're saying, you'll have to translate it yourself. Have fun!

*Team Fortress 2 is set in the 1970s, and the first automatic scoring machines were invented in the 1970s, so _score_ one for me!

*Most bowlers didn't trust the automatic scoring machines when they came out, but Engie is Engie and I can't see him wasting good tech.

*This story was more or less me figuring out whether I ship SniperSpy or SniperMedic more. Guess who won?

*I won't explicitly say who Pauling's girlfriend is, but if you haven't guessed already, she's a character from a mobile video game. I don't own her, I just used her voice to make Pauling gay/homoromantic.

*I wanted to make Pauling asexual for three reasons. One, I'm asexual. Two, I think we need more asexual characters who aren't also autistic or mentally strange (not that there's anything wrong with that), and I like the idea of Pauling preferring romance over sex. Three, she wears purple. I won't go too heavy into romance with Pauling, I just wanted a cute way to end this fic, so if you don't like the idea of Pauling being asexual homoromantic, then just ignore it and pretend she's 100% gay or bisexual or whatever you want. (In other words, don't hit me.)

*I will be writing more stuff! But school starts up again soon, so it might take awhile. But I'll get it done!


	3. Engineer's Lightbulb

"SPAH!"

Engineer screamed in frustration as he rushed towards his sentries, imagining the BLU Spy cacking as he ran off with sappers in his hands. He pulled his wrench out, quickly fixing his turrets, and muttering sweet nothings to them as he did so.

"It's ok, baby," he whispered to his dispenser. "You're alright. Daddy's here to fix ya." He rubbed the metal box with a gloved hand. He tenderly attended to his machines, and just as he had fixed them, Pyro ran by.

"Where ya been, buddy? You're supposed to keep the Spahs off my back." Engineer chuckled, not really expecting a response. When Pyro cast a worried look around the room, and then ducked behind a wall, Engineer started to get concerned. "Py? You alright?" He abandoned his turrets for a few seconds, slowly walking around the wall where Pyro had hidden themselves.

Pyro had come out of the last respawn as a buxom woman with pale skin, and was working as fast as possible to wrap themselves up when Engineer poked his head around the corner. They continued working, unaware of his presence, popping an eyehole off of their mask to see their work better. Engineer could see those dark green eyes from where he stood, and he bit his lip to keep from gasping. Was _this_ what Pyro looked like under their suit? They were beautiful.

When Pyro finished wrapping up, they zipped up their suit and righted themselves, missing Engineer's rushed movements back to his turrets. They moved out next to him, waving hello and mumbling something to him.

"BLU Medic got you on the way over? That's alright, Py. Long as you're safe."

His last word was punctuated with a headshot from the BLU Sniper.

Engineer didn't know why he abandoned his turrets then and there. He didn't know why he raced back to respawn to wait for Pyro. And he certainly couldn't explain why he saw Pyro sitting in respawn, again with their suit open, cutting bandages off their muscled chest with a brown eye watching. _What the sam hill?!_

The rest of the battle was an utter disaster. Pyro got killed left and right, going through respawn after respawn. Engineer stopped checking up on them after the third one, thoroughly confused by the different bodies Pyro was appearing in. They ended out the day with a hideous loss, and everyone walked back to the base tired and grumpy. There was silence amongst the men (and Pyro), and then Scout started complaining.

"Man, we coulda had 'em! Damn Py, kept getting in the way and dyin' every two seconds! We woulda won if it weren't fer youse!"

Scout went on a long tirade about how awful Pyro was, and they tried not to listen, they really did. They knew Scout was just frustrated, and they knew that nobody really thought they were a "useless sack'a worms" under their suit. But, still...

It _hurt_.

The last straw came when Engineer saw Pyro folding their arms under their rib-cage, drawing away from the rest of the group.

"Quit your bellyachin', Scout. I think you've made your point."

"Have I? Cause this dumb sack'a shit ain't listenin' ta me! Hey, air-head! Ya got any /brains/ in that suit'a yours?"

"Scout!" Engineer shouted, but Pyro was already turning away. Scout ran in front of him. "Where d'ya think you're goin'? I ain't finished wit'chu yet." He swung at Pyro, hitting them square in the glass lens. Pyro hit the ground, screaming. Engineer crouched down by Pyro, trying to help get as much glass out of Pyro's mask as possible. He could see tan skin, a blue eye, and a tuft of strawberry blond hair, and in that moment he realized it didn't matter what Pyro looked like.

Pyro was crying.

He was going to kill Scout.

He jumped up with alarming swiftness, grabbing Scout by the neck and hoisting the taller boy up in the air.

"You listen to me, you goddamn sonofabitch. If you ever, _ever_ , make Pyro cry again, I swear to Jesus, Joseph, and Mary I will take you out of the respawn system and slit your _fucking_ throat. Understand?"

Scout nodded, white as a sheet. He had never seen Engie this angry before, and it was terrifying. It was worse than the time he had come home late from a baseball game and his ma, in the middle of doing after-dinner dishes, had smacked him with a cast-iron frying pan the size of Sasha.

Engineer dropped Scout to the ground and turned back to Pyro, who had regained their footing and were moving swiftly back to their shack. Engineer followed as fast as he could (he'd never been a quick runner), catching the door before Pyro could slam it. He watched Pyro sit down on the bed, pull off their mask, and throw it across the room before putting their head in their hands and sobbing. Their short, wavy hair shook with each sob, and blood ran down one of their gloves.

"Pyro?" Engineer asked softly, the way you might call a cat down from a tree. Pyro looked up. Engineer's heart broke at the fear and sadness in their-her?-eyes. He walked forward, hands up. "Don't worry, Py. I just wanna help you get all that glass outta your face. Alright?"

Pyro considered it, and nodded, putting their hands down and turning to face Engineer. He pulled a pair of tweezers out of his toolbox, having carried it the whole way to Pyro's shack, and sat down on the mattress next to Pyro. He delicately gripped Pyro's head in his hands, plucking shards of glass out of their face. They looked so vulnerable, so...kissable...

Engineer focused back at the task at hand. He pulled some band-aids out of his toolbox next, covering up some of the bigger cuts. "They're no medkit," he said, "but they'll do the trick for now." When he had finished, he brushed back Pyro's hair, smiling at them. They flinched and tried to look away, but he kept a hand on their shoulder.

"Look," he said, "I'm not an idiot. I think I figured out what respawn's been doin' to you. And it just ain't fair for you to go through all that. But...it don't matter to me what you look like. I think...I think you're great either way. OK?"

Pyro stared up at him with wide eyes. They knew exactly what Engineer was trying to say. They smiled, leaning over on Engie's shoulder and hugging them. Engineer hugged them back, lying down on the bed so Pyro would be more comfortable. Engineer smelled like steel and dust, and Pyro breathed him in deeply, smiling. They curled up next to Engineer, and he hummed them a lullaby. He wasn't the best singer, but he had a fatherly voice that was great for putting kids to sleep, and his deep, gravelly voice made Pyro feel safe. They fell asleep in a matter of minutes, and Engineer couldn't help but smile. They were adorable.

Once he was sure Pyro was asleep, he pulled himself out from under them, draping a blanket on top of their body. He wasn't sure they would be comfortable with the rest of their suit on, but he sure as hell wasn't going to strip it off of them. He walked back to the base, wondering whose turn it was for dinner that night.

Scout waited until Engineer had left before poking his head in Pyro's shack. Sure enough, they were asleep, blanket pulled over their head. He thought about going over and pulling the blanket off of them to see what they looked like, but shook his head. He had done enough for one day, and didn't want to die any time soon. He walked over to the corner of the room where Pyro had thrown their mask and picked it up, looking over the damage. He winced when he saw that the other lens had been broken out by the throw. This was gonna be a hard job. He snuck the mask out of the shack, taking one last look at Pyro's sleeping form before closing the door.

The next day, Pyro found a brand new mask with shiny glass lenses sitting at the foot of their bed.

Scout didn't die that week.

* * *

[Author's Note: The next chapter might take awhile to upload. I'm running out of ideas very quickly. I take suggestions though!

The title of this story was inspired by the first episode of Ouran High School Host Club, where each club member has a lightbulb moment where they realize Haruhi is actually a girl. I wanted to incorporate that into this story, so each merc has a moment where they realize Pyro's... _exotic_ nature.]


	4. Songs and Silence

Engineer and Pyro quickly developed a pattern. They'd work together in battle, with Engineer providing Pyro time to adjust after a respawn. Pyro would help Engineer tinker with his machines, handing him various tools here and there. Every night, Engineer would come out to the shack and sing Pyro to sleep. He was getting more comfortable around the firebug, and the little flame baby took to him like a puppy. Engie even built Pyro a turret to ward people off on their shower nights.

Engineer noticed something odd about Pyro. With the mask on, they chattered and cheered like a little kid. Without the mask, however, they were always silent, using head shakes and facial expressions to communicate. Occasionally they would come close to saying something out loud, but they would always catch themselves. It was as if they were afraid of anyone hearing their voice.

That changed a few weeks later.

Pyro was bumbling around in their shack, lighting a fire and humming a wordless tune to themselves. They were a lively girl with short blond hair and a flat chest today, and it made them smile. They had learned that Engie had a thing for blondes, and they felt really cute today, so they were humming. Their rubber suit and helmet lay on the bed, and they danced around in their short clothing.

Engineer walked up to the shack, a small bag in hand. He heard humming coming from inside the shack, and raised an eyebrow, smiling when he realized that it was the same tune he'd been humming to them every night. He stopped just outside the door, humming along.

Pyro jumped when they heard Engie's deep humming, but something inside them compelled them to keep going. They went through the whole song, and then Engie opened the door, smiling at Pyro's outfit. He hadn't expected them to wear much under the suit, but what they were wearing now suited them well. He held up the bag.

"I brought you somethin'," he said, handing Pyro the bag. They took it, grinning when they opened it. Inside was a utilitarian but cute pair of barrettes.

"I figured you'd want something to hold your hair back out there," he said. "Y'know, when it needs holding back."

Pyro's smile lit up the room, and they ran forward, glomping him. He couldn't help but grin as they let out a small giggle. He put his right arm under their legs, holding them up in a wedding carry.

"Y'know, I could teach you the words to that song." They blushed, shaking their head. "It's no trouble," he said, reassuring them. "You've got the voice for it."

They shook their head again, this time with sadness. They had a good voice today. Who was to say what kind of voice they would have tomorrow, after all their respawns? Who knew if their voice would be the same by the weekend?

"Well...I'll sing it anyway," Engie said, not wanting to push his luck but still in the mood for serenading. He carried them over to their mattress, kicking off his boots and tool belt. He lay down next to them, enjoying the warmth of the fire Pyro had started. They pulled the blanket over him and curled up, head tucked into his shoulder. He rubbed their head soothingly, humming the first few chords of the song.

" _Come and look out through the window_

 _The big old moon is shinin' down_

 _Tell me now don't it remind you_

 _Of a blanket on the ground_

 _Remember back when love first found us_

 _We'd go slippin' out of town_

 _And we'd love beneath the moonlight_

 _On a blanket on the ground.._."

He smiled down at their sleeping face, yawning a little. _I've got nothin' to do in the morning,_ he thought, and closed his eyes, falling asleep next to Pyro. Their sleeping breaths synced up, and anyone listening would have heard their hearts beating with the same rhythm.

The pair would awake the next morning to some awkward conversation and blushing smiles, but neither would regret falling asleep together.

* * *

[Author's Note: _Blanket On The Ground_ is an actual country song from the 70s, and I figured it fit these two the best (mostly because of Pyro's mattress). The song will appear again, but it's pretty good. Also, just for a note, Pyro looks like either Kagamine Rin or Paz from MGS in this chapter, because kawaii.]


	5. Out of the Cold

Pyro _hated_ the cold.

Heat had always been their favourite thing. Sure, they enjoyed ice cream every once in awhile, but that was in the summer. Winter was their least favourite time of year. Every year, they hoped that the dust bowl would be warm, that they wouldn't have to worry about rain or snow or any kind of cold. And every year, their hopes were dashed.

They ran across the battlefield, wiping their mask lenses. The rain made their vision blurry, and they had slipped and fallen into the mud several times. Rain was almost worse than cold. It was wet, and it made mud that got everywhere, and it leaked through the roof of their shack and made it nearly impossible to start any good fires.

They finally got over to the dry area where Engie had set up his turrets and various machines. He hated the rain as well, mostly because it made his knees ache and his machines malfunction. He let Pyro huddle underneath the metal canopy he had found, sighing at a leak in the metal roof. It made him think of Pyro's shack, and how much rain there was going to be that night.

"Come to my room after dinner," he shouted over the sound of rain on metal. Pyro nodded. And sure enough, after Sniper's failed attempt at making something with the leftovers in the fridge, Pyro showed up in Engineer's workshop, the folded thermal blanket in their hands. It was clean, despite Pyro being covered with mud. On the way back and forth from their shack, they had slipped in the mud several times, but put special effort into keeping the blanket clean and dry. Engie had to smile at their obvious effort. He had been working on some while while he was waiting for Pyro, but when the firebug walked in he stood up, pulling the tarp off of his bed and throwing it over what he was doing. He shut and locked the door to be sure they wouldn't get any unexpected visitors, and then helped Pyro take off their muddy rubber suit. Pyro was a little taller today, their wife-beater pulled tight over a muscled chest. They reminded Engie of Captain America, but with black curly hair and a little bit of stubble. They were hot instead of downright cute tonight, but Engie kinda liked it. It was a change, at least.

Once Pyro was out of their wet suit and had had a chance to marvel at the fact that their clothes were still dry, they walked over to Engie's bed, climbing into it. It smelled like grease and steel, and the bed sagged in the middle from Engie sleeping in the same spot every night, but Pyro took to it immediately. It smelt like Engie, and it was more comfortable than their mattress on the ground.

They looked over at Engie, obviously expecting him to join them, but he sighed. "I've got a lot of work to do, Py. With all this rain we've been gettin'...I'm doin' a lot of maintenance. It's gonna take me a bit. Go ahead and sleep, alright?"

Pyro nodded sadly, lying back down. How were they supposed to sleep without Engie singing to them? They didn't even have a crackling fire to lull them to sleep. They ran a hand over their throat, a plan forming in their mind.

" _Come and look out through the window..._ "

Engie looked up. He thought he heard something echo through his workshop. A singing voice, a little higher than his own.

" _The big old moon is shinin' down..._ "

He spun around in his chair. Pyro was lying on their back, their eyes closed in concentration as they struggled to remember all the words.

" _Tell me now don't it...remind you..._ "

Engie looked back to his work. He could multitask, couldn't he?

" _Of a blanket on the ground..._ "

Pyro felt Engie sit on the bed next to them before they saw the shorter man run a hand down their face.

" _Remember back when love first found us_

 _We'd go slippin' out of town_

 _And we'd love beneath the moonlight_

 _On a blanket on the ground..._ "

Medic yawned, marching down the hallway with bare feet. He had been woken up by the singing echoing through the building, and had finally found the source of it. Finding the door locked, he banged on it. The singing quickly stopped, and after a few seconds of scuffling Engineer opened the door.

"What can I do you for, Doc?" he asked jovially. The room was dark behind him save for one work light.

"I heard singing," Medic said simply, too tired to investigate.

"Sorry," Engineer said. "I had my radio on. I'll turn it down if it's wakin' you."

"Zhat vould be for zhe best," Medic nodded, rubbing an eye. Engineer realized Medic wasn't wearing his glasses. Or a shirt. All he was wearing was a pair of black briefs.

"Alright. Well, I don't wanna keep you up any longer," he said after a few minutes of awkward silence. "G'night."

"Good night, Engineer," Medic said, turning and walking back to his room. Engineer shut the door, sheepishly grinning at Pyro. What the hell, he thought, and climbed into bed, this time letting Pyro wrap their arms around him. It was different being the smaller one, but it was nice. And it was warm.

Heavy sat up when Medic came back into the room. "Did Doktor find noise?"

"I did. Zhe Engineer was singing."

"Alone?"

"It did not sound like it, but he said it vas his radio."

"Spy say he brought Pyro to his room."

"Whether he did or not is none of my business," Medic yawned, climbing back into bed. "Ve could all use some rest anyvay." He passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Heavy chuckled softly, shaking his head before lying down and going to sleep as well, one arm around the doctor.

* * *

[Author's Note: I'm proud of how I slid that HeavyMedic in there at the last possible second. I know this is all supposed to be about Pyro, but I'd like to focus on the other mercenary couples as well, partially because I want to, partially because I know if I don't I'll run out of ideas quicker than I already have. I'm thinking about doing something with Scout, but I'm not sure what. I want it to be kinda sad.

I like the headcanon of Medic just being completely oblivious when he's tired, to the point of walking around the base in only his underwear to get Engie to shut up and go to bed. It's hilarious and adorable (hiladorable?). I might play with that more in the future.


	6. Scout, Prankster Extraordinaire

Soldier straightened his jacket, making sure all the buttons were shined and facing the right direction. He looked around for his helmet, which was usually sitting on his dresser next to him when it wasn't in bed with him. He looked around for it, then started walking out of his room. Someone must have stolen it.

"HAVE ANY OF YOU MAGGOTS SEE MY-"

He was cut off by a bucket of ice water falling on his head. He screamed, spitting out chunks of ice. He wiped his face, only to yell again when he saw that the "bucket" that had hit him was actually his helmet, still slightly filled with water.

Engineer, meanwhile, was rifling through all the drawers in his workshop. He knew he had at least five wrenches in here, but he couldn't find a single one. Sighing, he looked up, only to see about twenty wrenches tied to the ceiling.

Medic almost had a panic attack when he walked into his operating room and saw everything moved a few inches to the left, just enough to put him on edge.

Sniper climbed out of his van, yawning, only to yell when he saw his tires had been stolen. Spy started swearing in French when he saw his balaclava had been dyed pink, and all of his cigarettes replaced with twigs. Demo and Heavy were both confused with their alcohol and sandwich supplies being replaced with bomb-making supplies.

"SCOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUT!"

Scout smirked, sitting atop the highest building in the Dust Bowl. Good. They'd all gotten pranked. Now to sit up here and watch the fireworks when Pyro woke up.

After Soldier's helmet had been dried and a new uniform found, Engineer's wrenches gotten down from the ceiling, Medic's room reordered (they were still debating how Scout managed to move some of the heavier objects by himself), Sniper's tires found, a replacement balaclava and pack of cigarettes found for Spy, and all the food and nitroglycerin put back where it belonged, a thought came to Engie with startling force.

"Where's Pyro?"

He asked the rest of the team if they had seen his little flame baby, but nobody had. Engie knew Pyro had spent the night in his workshop again, but they hadn't been there when he woke up. Checking the only other logical place, Engineer ran out to Pyro's shack. He stopped outside the door when he heard rushed whispers and the clatter of metal.

"Where is it? Where is it?"

"Pyro?" Engineer asked, only to be answered with another clatter of metal and a whispered swear. He opened the door, freezing when he saw Pyro.

Pyro was strapped to their bed-frame, completely suitless. They were shivering in their skimpy outfit, their lack of body mass not helping. They stared at Engineer with glowing blue eyes that were red with tears, and their black wavy hair was a tangled mess. They looked terrified.

Engineer rushed forward, ripping off Pyro's restraints with his bare hands. He pulled them into a tight hug once they were free. "It's ok. I'm here. You're safe." They put their head against him, sniffling and sobbing, letting his strength sooth them. Eventually their sobs faded, and they pulled back, not meeting Engie's gaze.

"Did he do anything to you?" Engie asked. Pyro shook their head. They had woken up tied to the bed, with no memory of getting there. They felt lucky they weren't female today, or who knew what Scout might have done.

"I'm going to kill him," Engineer said, standing. Pyro grabbed his arm tightly, trying to pull him back. _Don't do this,_ their eyes said. _I'm ok, really._

"It's not ok, Py. That asshole pranked the entire base in one night, nearly killed a few people, and now he's hurt you. I'm gonna beat him into the ground."

Pyro tried their best to keep Engineer from leaving, but they weren't strong enough to stop him. Once he had gone, they curled up on the bedframe, unsure of what to do next.

Scout realized he'd made a big mistake when he saw Engineer come marching out into the yard with a shotgun. Maybe pranking Pyro wasn't such a good idea. But he'd been so bored! There was nothing to do out here, and the only friend he could have had was on the other team. And Miss Pauling wasn't due back for another few months. God, he needed something to do! _Well,_ he thought, _At least I've got something ta do now: run from Engie before the bastard murders me._ He jumped up from his hiding place, running across the rooftops as Engineer made his way up to the rooftops.

A few hours and several gunshots later, Engineer returned to the shack, suit and mask in hand. Pyro met him with teary eyes, hugging him the second he walked in the door. He had a little blood on his face, but he hadn't remembered to turn respawn off before he killed Scout, so the kid was probably still running for his life.

Engineer waited until Pyro had the suit back on before giving them another hug. "It's my turn to make dinner tonight," he said. "Wanna help?"

Pyro's face lit up under the mask. They nodded, hugging him again. Engie smiled, rubbing their head. Food and hanging out with Engie were the two best incentives you could give Pyro, and the two best ways to cheer them up. It was a genius plan.

Dinner went smoothly, even without Scout present. He didn't come back until Monday, and that was only for work, but Engineer knew where the teamkill switch was.

* * *

[Author's Note: A little shorter this time. This was supposed to be about Scout but ended up being about Pyro and Engineer again.

I know that technically Scout should have had his lightbulb moment here after seeing Pyro suitless for the second time, but here's the thing: Scout's dumb. Really dumb. So his bulb is only really half-lit. He has no idea who or _what_ Pyro is at this point. He still thinks they're a freak. A cute freak. But still a freak.

I wanna say who my inspiration was for Pyro for this chapter but I'm a little iffy about it because he's from a Webtoon. Let's just say his name rhymes with "Proctor Darino".]


	7. Abri de la Tempête (SniperSpy)

CRASH

Sniper shot straight up in bed, his breathing heavy. Goddamn thunderstorms. He'd never liked them. They always put him on edge. So much light, so many noises...he was a man who liked quiet and stillness. Thunderstorms were chaotic and messy and loud.

He pulled himself out of bed, climbing out of his van and running into the base. He'd sleep on the couch in the kitchen if he had to, as long as he was inside and out of that storm. He figured a cup of coffee wasn't going to hurt anyone, especially if this storm was going to keep him awake.

When he got to the kitchen, however, he found Spy waiting for him. The Frenchman smiled and stood up, dusting off his suit.

"Were you...waitin' for me?" Sniper asked, a little impressed. Spy nodded, grinning madly. "I figured ze storm would keep you awake, and you would seek refuge inside." He gestured to the coffee pot. "You could make yourself a cup of coffee and stay up all night, ruining your chances in battle tomorrow. Or, you could come sleep somewhere quieter."

"Gee, real subtle, ain't ya?" Sniper scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was pretty tired, and the idea of sleeping next to Spy made his heart race. But his conscious mind and his pride still held him back from a decision.

A loud crash of thunder, louder than the one that had woken him up, answered the question for him.

"Fine," Sniper said grumpily. "But don't expect me ta cuddle up wif'ya er nothin'."

Spy smiled, taking Sniper's hand and leading him through the base. His room was lower down than the other mercenaries', and you could hardly hear the storm from inside of it. Sniper relaxed almost immediately, especially once he saw that Spy had prepared a bed roll for him.

"You really were expectin' me, eh?" he smirked. Spy shrugged. "You are not a hard man to predict." "Fair enough," Sniper said, lying down on the bedroll. He was still wearing his pants and shirt, having been too tired earlier to take them off, but he wasn't stripping in front of Spy, no way in hell. Spy, on the other hand, appeared to have no such qualms about privacy or indecency, and started stripping off his suit right where Sniper could see him. The Australian rolled over, averting his gaze and trying to sleep. He closed his eyes when the almost naked Frenchman climbed into the bed next to him, and tried not to listen when Spy started mumbling something to him in French.

"Témoin, homme pudique. Je voudrais vous au lit à côté de moi."

"Fuck off, Spy. I'm tryin'ta sleep."

The next morning Sniper awoke to find Spy sprawled on top of them. He coughed in surprise, waking the Frenchman up. His balaclava was spun around so only half of his face was showing, but what Sniper could see of Spy's face was bright red. Spy quickly pulled himself off of Sniper, climbing back into his own bed.

"My apologies. I must have rolled off in my sleep. It is a wonder I did not wake you up."

"Whatever. Just put yer clothes on so I can get outta here wifout tha whole base thinking I slept with you."

"But you did sleep with me."

"Not like that!" Sniper was standing now, shirt soaked through with sweat. It was uncomfortably warm in Spy's room, and Sniper was used to heat as an Australian. He wanted to get out of here as fast as possible.

"Why so nervous, Sniper?" Spy crooned. "You act as if you would have rathered to spend ze night out in zat van."

"Maybe I would've," Sniper quipped, moving for the door. He paused just before he opened it.

"But...thanks. Fer lettin' me stay tha night'n all."

"Ze pleasure was mine."

With that, Sniper fled back upstairs to his van, and Spy was left to get dressed and check the local forecast for more rain.

* * *

[Author's Note: Hah! I wrote SniperSpy without mentioning Pyro!

I wanted to have a scene at the end of this where Sniper looks up what Spy said and 'holy shit, that wanka wants ta fuck me', but I thought it was better to end it where I did. Just imagine that moment for yourself. :)

The next story is longer, and has more characters!]


	8. Power Outage

More rain. Pyro was sick to death of rain. They'd had to cancel today's fights because of it. Apparently so many mercs were falling in the mud and hurting themselves that nobody had any time to move any carts or capture any points. Pyro was glad to have a rest, especially since it meant they would stay in the same form for a few more days. They were on their way to Engineer's workshop at the moment, humming their song softly. They were wearing their full suit, so they didn't have to worry about anyone hearing them.

They'd rounded a corner and were figuring out which direction to go when the lights went out.

Pyro yelped as everything around them was plunged into darkness. They tripped over their own feet trying to find a wall, and lay there, paralyzed with fear. They hated the dark more than cold and rain. Darkness was too enveloping, too blinding. Too many things could hide in the dark, could jump out at you and hurt you when you couldn't see them. The Pyro didn't remember much about their life before Team Fortress, but they remembered that the dark was dangerous. They usually had a flamethrower or a lighter or something to light up the darkness and help them sleep, and recently Engineer's worklamp had been enough, but now it was so dark they were afraid to breathe.

They crawled forward cautiously, closing their eyes. They could hear yelling from other parts of the base, but couldn't make out the words, and their fear-addled brain turned the yells of confusion from their team into screams of terror. They clamped a hand over an ear, trying to block out the noise, but the stone and metal hallways amplified and distorted the noise. Pyro began to breathe heavily, hands curling into fists as they tried to prepare for whoever's footsteps were moving down the hall.

"Py?"

Engineer looked down at Pyro, who was army-crawling across the floor. He lifted his flashlight to get a better look at the terrified firebug, and Pyro opened their eyes behind the mask. They saw Engineer, their Engineer, staring down at them, and they crawled forward faster, grabbing on to his leg the way a frightened child might. Engie rubbed their head, shushing them. "It's alright. C'mon. The others're all waitin' on us."

He helped them stand up, and the two of them walked through the dark hallway, holding hands. Pyro's grip on Engineer was incredibly tight at first, but loosened slightly as they calmed down. They were no longer alone in the dark.

The rest of the mercs were all camped out in the intelligence room. Battle or no battle, they all knew the importance of protecting that briefcase. Plus, the room was big enough to fit everyone inside on sleeping bags and bed rolls, which were all arranged in somewhat of a circle. Pyro sat down on one of the sleeping bags, grinning when they saw the lit candles in the centre of the circle. Engineer moved back to the door. "I'm gonna see if I can fix that darn generator and get our power back. If I'm not back in half an hour, I'm either asleep or dead."

Pyro stood up, mumbling something. They didn't want Engineer to be out there alone, but they didn't really want to leave the fire either. Engineer saw their conflict and shook his head, smiling. "You stay here, Py. I'll be alright." He waved to them one last time before leaving the room.

Pyro curled up on their sleeping bag. Scout looked over at them from his sleeping bag, and once they noticed him staring they couldn't ignore him for long. They were still mad at him for stealing their suit and tying them to the bed, but he just looked so lonely. Everyone else in the room was talking, but nobody seemed to have anything to say to Scout. Pyro sighed, turning to him. They noticed he had a bruise on his forehead that looked pretty bad, and they poked at it.

"OW! Py, what're you doin'?"

They poked at it again, tilting their head and mumbling.

"I was tossing a ball around when the power went out, alright? Jeez." He slapped their hand away, turning away sharply. Pyro drew back, a little hurt. They went back to sitting on their sleeping bag, staring at the fire. Why was Scout always so angry around them? He seemed so happy out on the battlefield, joking around with all the members of the team whether they were in the mood or not. What was it about Pyro that made him hate them so much? They hugged themselves, missing Engineer. What was the point of having a cute female form with poofy black hair if he wasn't there to admire it? How were they going to be able to sleep without him singing? They couldn't start singing in front of all the others.

They felt a poke in the arm, and turned. Scout held out Engineer's guitar. "He left it in here earlier," the boy explained, blushing slightly. "D'ya know how ta play?"

Pyro shrugged. They had watched Engineer a lot, but they hadn't really had time to learn a lot of chords. They tried arranging their fingers the way Engie had, but only managed to make noise. They set the instrument down next to them, stroking it gently with their gloved hands.

"Give it'ere," Sniper said. Pyro jumped, looking up at him.

"You can play guitar, Sniper?" Spy asked, amazed. He shrugged. "A little. Oi'm not very good a'it, though."

He thought back to any music he knew. The only song that came to mind was one he had heard on his car radio.

" _What'll you do when you get lonely_

 _And nobody's waiting by your side?_

 _You've been running and hiding much too long._

 _You know it's just your foolish pride._

 _Layla, you've got me on my knees._

 _Layla, I'm begging, darling please._

 _Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind._ "

Pyro heard Scout humming along under his breath. They looked over to Medic and Heavy, who were tapping along to the beat. Demoman started drunkenly humming along, while Soldier staunchly refused to join in with Sniper's "hippy music". It was a pretty relaxing moment.

Over the next hour, through familiar music, calm atmosphere, and Demo's generosity with his bottle, 6/8ths of the makeshift campfire were drunkenly singing. Scout was laughing his head off, having suggested _Bohemian Rhapsody_ with full knowledge that nobody knew it. He was having the time of his life "conducting" the crowd, finally having a good time. Pyro was laughing along, but they stayed in their seat, still waiting for Engineer to come back. They were still waiting when he came back, after the singing had died down and everyone else had passed out in or on top of their sleeping bags. The candles were almost out, and Pyro was falling asleep sitting up. They heard footsteps coming down the hallway and perked up. When Engineer poked his head in the door, he was pleasantly surprised by Pyro's smiling face. They had taken off their helmet after they were sure the others were asleep, and their bright grin eased Engie's frustrated mind.

"I couldn't get the generator workin'," he said, sitting next to them. "I'll have another look at it in the mornin'." They nodded. "Where's my guitar?" he asked. They smiled, pointing at Sniper. Engineer shook his head and stood up, pulling the guitar out of the Australian's hands and leaning it against the wall. When he sat back down next to Pyro, they were still smiling, staring at him.

"What?" he asked. "Do I have something on my face?"

He did, in fact, have several oil spots on his face, but he quickly forgot about those when Pyro popped up from their sitting position, kissed him on the cheek, and returned to their lotus in the blink of an eye. He blushed, grinning at them. "It's a little late for that kinda stuff, ain't it?" He yawned, moving to lie down. He caught their look of disappointment, and waited for them to lie down and close their eyes before popping up and kissing them back on their cheek. They blushed adorably, popping open an eye to look at him. He smiled. "G'night."

They woke up the next morning to their sleeping bag pulled over their head, an empty room, and Engie holding their mask and a plate of eggs. And his smile lit up the room more than any fire.

* * *

[Author's Note: Man, looking for 1970's music in general is WAY easier than looking up specific categories! The things I do to keep this thing period...

The version of _Layla_ I'm thinking of is the jazzy, slower one, not the faster one. I thought about looking up 1970's Australian music, but I'm lazy. Maybe I'll have Snipes sing something native later, but for now you get this. :*

Speaking of :*, the little kiss scene at the end had me literally smiling while I wrote it. If I was confident in my ability to draw Py and Engie, I'd make some fanart of that scene. It's just so...kyun!

Also, Pyro looks kinda like Cyan from Show by Rock in this chapter, because I'm in love with the short poofy hair style she has. Just about every chapter Pyro's in, I sit down and go "ok, what waifu/husbando should Pyro look like today?" I'm still fighting the urge to write a crossover one-shot where Pyro comes out of respawn looking like Hatsune Miku.

Up next, some more Texas Toast cuteness, and then maybe some SniperSpy. I'm still thinking of scenarios for HeavyMedic and DemoSoldier.]


	9. Temporary Tattoos

"Py, what the hell do you think you're doin'?"

Pyro had snuck up on Engineer, a cold rag and a paper square in their hands. They tucked a short strand of brown hair behind their ears, smiling at him with blue eyes. A devilish grin adorned their face as Engineer turned to them. Before he could react (or do anything but swear), Pyro grabbed his arm, pulling up his shirt sleeve and placing the paper square on his wrist. He tried to wriggle away, especially when Pyro pressed the cold, wet rag to his skin.

"Jesus, Py! What the hell-" He stopped when he saw Pyro mouthing something. Numbers. They were counting. But counting what?

Finally, Pyro pulled the rag off of his arm, gingerly peeling the paper square off. Below it was the image of a campfire. Engineer looked up at Pyro in confusion until they turned over their bare hand to reveal a wrench painted onto their skin.

"Are these...temporary tattoos?"

Pyro nodded excitedly. They ran over to where their suit lay on Engineer's bed and pulled an envelope out from under it, putting it on the desk in front of Engineer. He picked it up and looked through it.

"You...sent away for Team Fortress tattoos?"

They nodded again, grinning. He chuckled. They were so freaking adorable it drove him mad. He stood up, kissing them on the forehead and sitting back down.

"I'll never take it off."

"What is zat on your arm?" Spy asked. Engineer had rolled his sleeves up to fix one of his sentries, and Spy had happened to be passing by. At Spy's question Engineer jumped, yanking his sleeve down. "None'a your business," he said, scowling. The Spy just laughed and walked away, unlit cigarette dancing in his fingers.

The RED Spy turned BLU when Engineer shot him in the back. "Gonna have to try harder'n that, Frenchie!" he yelled.

After dinner, Engineer found Pyro in his room, their hair longer and of a darker shade, their body shorter and more feminine, the backs of their hands...blank.

 _The tattoo must've come off in respawn_ , Engineer realized, and he sighed, moving forward and taking their hands in his own. "It's alright, Py. You didn't know. It would've come off eventually, y'know."

They nodded sadly.

"I know," he said. "It would have been nice if it had stayed. Say, you've got more of those things, right?"

They nodded, pulling out the envelope. Engineer ruffled through the sheets of tattoos until he found a cute little bear. He held it up for them to see. "How about this one?"

They shook their head.

"How about this...bee?"

They shook their head, harder this time.

"Alright. What about...is this one of my turrets?!"

They just about grabbed it out of his hands, nodding vigorously. "Alright, alright. Hang on." He walked over to the sink in the corner of his room, grabbing the rag from that morning and soaking it with freezing cold water. He grinned evilly as he walked back over, setting the tattoo up on Pyro's wrist. He pressed the cold rag down on their arm, and they squealed with discomfort, trying to pull away. He held their arm steady for thirty seconds, then released it, and they pulled their arm in, trying to warm it up without rubbing off their tattoo. Engineer tossed the rag into the sink, still smirking at Pyro's wounded expression. He turned their hand over, kissing it lightly. It felt weird, but right at the same time. Engineer wasn't a passionately romantic man like Spy, but he knew what to do to make a girl blush.

Pyro might not be a girl, but the gesture worked. They blushed, gasping at the contact. They leaned forward, jumping off the bed and into Engie's arms. He lifted them over his shoulder, spinning them around. They giggled softly, and when he set them back down on the bed Engie felt himself lean forward and kiss them on the forehead. They wrapped their arms around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around their back and pulled them in closer, hugging them. He let himself keep them there for a few minutes, then put them back on the bed. They stared up at him in confusion, and he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've got some more work to do, Py. After the power went out a few weeks ago...I've been tryin' to make some modifications to it, and it's not happenin' quickly. I need to focus. OK?"

They nodded sadly, understanding. He hated to see them disappointed like that, but if he had gone any farther he wouldn't have gotten any work done, and he wasn't used to putting off work for personal reasons. He kissed them on the cheek quickly before going back to his work, and tried to ignore the feeling of their eyes on his back. Eventually, Pyro fell asleep, struggling due to the lack of music, and Engineer put all of his focus into his work.

He woke up the next morning at his desk, with a thermal blanket draped over him. His face was covered in Team Fortress stickers.

[Author's Note: Big news! One Day for Pyro now has an ask blog on Tumblr! asknonbinarypyronfriends is a blog run by me, specifically for you to send your questions and ideas in! I'll check the ask box often, so send stuff in!

Pyro is super freaking childish though. All the mercs are just big children. Especially Medic and Spy. They're all just adorable adult children.

Next chapter is shorter, but I'm working on better ideas and I thought the next chapter's topic had to be addressed.]


	10. Those Two Guys (DemoSol)

One of Pyro's favourite hobbies was watching the other pairs of men interact. Spy and Sniper were a fighting couple, who would then argue and then think about each other a bunch. Heavy and Medic were a brains and brawn couple, with Heavy doing little sweet things that would make the stern Medic blush. There was one couple, however, that Pyro could not get a read on:

Demoman and Soldier.

The two were almost inseperable. Where one went, the other would follow. What one would decide to do with his afternoon, the other would copy. They did everything together, but they did it so subtly that hardly anyone noticed. Their conversations were unusually quiet for what should have been such a loud pair, and they never seemed to be outwardly intimate, but there had been no fights, no breakups, and no drama whatsoever. Sniper and Spy were a pair full of drama, and occaisionally Medic would take a break from Heavy to get his work done, but Soldier and Demoman never seemed to be at odds with each other. And yet, they weren't that intimate, either. One had never woken up in the bed of the other. There had been no Saturday night drunken kisses. They didn't blush when they looked at each other, and sometimes they didn't even sit next to each other at dinner. On the battlefield, the two were hardly ever in the same place. How they had even fallen for each other in the first place was still an enigma to Pyro. They seemed to have nothing in common other than extreme nationalism and a love for exploding things. There were no gifts exchanged on birthdays, no special dinners, nothing. It was confusing.

The worst thing was that, no matter how hard Pyro tried to watch the two, no matter how much they looked into things, they couldn't see any kind of attraction or romance between the two. It was as if they were just really good friends, with no love whatsoever. At least, that was the conclusion Pyro came to to preserve their sanity. They were just good friends. They were taking on BLU team, come what may. They were blowing up things to save the day. They were extremely close in some ambiguous way, but Pyro didn't know what it was. They were just a pair of friends.

[Author's Note: Yes this is painfully short but I was fighting off writer's block left and right so forgive me. Seriously. I don't know what to do with these two. I got this far and went "shit I have absolutely no idea how to write DemoSol". They both just kinda float around in the background all the time because I don't want people going "hey wait where are Demo and Sol" like THEY'RE THERE OK I JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM

Excuse me while I go browse TF2 headcanons for story ideas]


	11. Engineer the Workaholic

Engineer was an extremely hard worker. When he had a job to do, he did it to the best of his ability. No matter how long it took him, no matter how much stress it put him through, he would keep going until the job was done. Especially if it was a job he gave himself.

He had given himself a challenging job this week: building sentries that wouldn't break down in the rain. His sentries weren't perfect; sometimes level one sentries would jam just after being built, and for awhile they had tended to explode when carried into respawn rooms. Engineer was always repairing one thing or another. It was one thing to scramble to fix a sapped sentry in the heat of battle, but during the nights it felt like he had all the time in the world to fix his machines and solve his problems. It kept his mind sharp through the day-to-day dullness. Waking up, eating breakfast, fighting, having lunch, fighting, having dinner, and then going back to his workshop to either work or sleep. It was a monotonous cycle that made living harder every day. He would never admit to being depressed, not even to Medic or Pyro. He had to keep up the act of a charming, cheery Southerner with a sharp wit and a fatherly influence. After all, if he stopped smiling, what would keep the rest of the team from ending up as depressed as he was?

Pyro was the cure for his ails. They were always there to cheer him up when he felt his mask falling off. They were always waiting for him at the end of a long day, maybe with a different face, but always the same smile. On the few nights he managed to pull himself away from his work and actually sleep, they were always there to warm up the bed for him. Sometimes he wondered if they protected him from himself the same way he protected them from the world.

Tonight, however, Pyro had offered to help with the dishes, and they weren't waiting in his workshop for him when he got back. He sat down at his desk and took out his worn rolls of blueprints. Sometimes he wondered how his grandfather had dealt with it all. After all, Radigan Conagher had been an Engineer just like Dell was now. Dell wondered if Radigan had preferred to be called Engineer the same way he did, or if he was bonded well enough with the team to go by a first-name basis. To be honest, Dell had often wondered about the real names of his teammates, and had occasionally had the urge to sit down and introduce himself. Part of their contract was confidentiality, but that just meant not revealing their identities to the public. He had read the contract when he signed up for this job, and there was nothing in it that said he couldn't know the rest of the team on a first name basis. If he was going to die out here, away from society and any chance of a family, he wanted at least one person to know his name. He wanted "Dell Conagher" on his grave stone, not "Engineer".

He sighed. He was getting off track again. His hands wandered to the guitar leaning against the edge of his desk. Whenever he was feeling too depressed or jittery to focus on work properly, he had a habit of picking up the instrument and strumming whatever notes came to mind. He used to keep his guitar hung up on the wall next to his bed, but as his room and mind became more cluttered, he moved it to the desk for easy access. It just felt right, having it in his hands, letting the music clear his mind. It kept out unwanted thoughts and let his mind relax for a few moments. Pyro hadn't seemed to notice his habit, as they were usually asleep before he got to that point. _Better a guitar than a gun_ , he often thought.

Suicidal thoughts. It was hard to be without them when you lived the way he did. But they were so laughably meaningless when faced with respawn. What was the point of killing himself when he would just tumble out of that machine with a mess to clean up? Logic often won out over thoughts like that. _No, I can't shoot myself in the head, Medic'll get suspicious if I ask to borrow his peroxide again. I can't hang myself now, I've got nothing tall or strong enough to do it._ Or, the most potent thought: _No, I can't steal the soporifics out of Medic's room and chug 'em all in one night, Pyro's sleeping over._

He picked up the guitar, strumming out a few chords and forcing his mind to move on to other, more work-related topics. Rain-proofing the sentries. That was his goal. He let the four words tumble though his mind over and over, like a mantra: _Rain-proofing the sentries. Rain-proofing the sentries. Rain-proofing the sentries._

He was still sitting at his desk, one pencil tucked behind each ear and another in his hand, mulling over a blueprint when Pyro walked in. They locked the door behind them, taking off their mask and setting it gingerly on a table by the bed. Their suit came next, and then they stood next to Engineer, looking over his shoulder, short copper hair just grazing their ears as they stood up on their toes to get a look at what he was doing. He barely registered their presence, and it took them nuzzling against his cheek to get him to snap out of his daze.

"Wha-Oh, hey Py. You done for the night?"

They nodded, smiling. He took a moment, eyes running over the curves of their body, and then he rubbed his eyes and blinked, wincing at the pain and dryness. He wiped tears from his eyes, muttering with discontent. When he looked back up, they were still standing there, head tilted a little in concern. He shook his head, smiling softly. "Too much time starin' at a page, I guess. What can you do." He took a moment to stare into their bottle green eyes, admiring the colour, and then glanced back at his desk. He wasn't even halfway done yet, and he was fairly close to a milestone.

"Sorry, Py. Don't wait up for me tonight."

He found his motivation shaken when he saw disappointment cloud Pyro's eyes. He pinched himself under the table. _Rain-proofing the sentries._ He reached up and rubbed their head, flashing a reassuring smile at them before turning back to his work. He heard them climb into bed, knowing they would try their hardest not to fall asleep until he joined them. _Jesus._ Their presence was great for his emotional health, but it was horrible for his work ethic. Nevertheless, he forced himself to stay on task, and soon heard the sound of their soft breathing. It only reminded him of how much longer he would be awake.

The next morning, Pyro woke up to Engineer still working at his desk. They thought he was asleep at first, but then saw him move his pencil along the blueprint. Carefully, they climbed out of bed, stretching. They padded over to him, gently tapping him on the shoulder. He jumped sharply, his shoulders coming up to his ears so quickly it startled Pyro.

"Dammit Py, stop sneakin' up on me like that. You're gonna give me a heart attack," he growled. He had been working all night, and the lack of sleep had put him in a poor mood. Pyro stepped back, traces of the word "sorry" on their lips. All they managed to get out was a short hiss.

Battle that day was a nightmare. Engineer was on his game as usual, refusing to let a silly thing like tiredness ruin his score, but when he shot at opposing team members, he shot off limbs instead of going for killshots like he normally did. He built up high level turrets with lightning speed, and killed off the opposing Spy before Pyro could even move. It was like he had gone into hyper awareness, but it didn't come without its drawbacks. He was unusually jumpy, and Pyro eventually left him alone with his turrets for fear of getting screamed at. At the end of the day, Engineer had the highest kill count, but they still somehow managed to lose. The rest of the team moved carefully around Engineer when they got back to the base, as he glared at anyone who dared strike up a conversation. He stomped off to his room before Pyro could object, slamming the door and literally throwing himself back into his work. If he could just fix this one glitch with the sentries, he'd be done. That was it. One little problem. He should have found a solution by now. Where was his guitar?

Two hours later, he wasn't any closer to finding a solution that didn't involve umbrellas or plastic covering. There was a knock on the door.

"It's open," he said, sighing angrily. Pyro poked their head in before slowly walking into the room, a plate of food in their hands. It was then Engineer realized he had skipped dinner, which just made him even more frustrated. Couldn't focus on work, couldn't focus on anything else. Useless.

"Py, I need to focus. Could you just...gimme twenty minutes?" He looked back down at the blueprints in front of him. He needed a way to keep the sentries from glitching out when exposed to humidity. He was close. If he could just...

The next time he looked up, it was Pyro at his door again. He looked up from his blueprints. " _What_ , Py? I told you twenty minutes."

Pyro pointed at the clock above Engineer's bed. He rubbed his eyes, which he suddenly realized were stinging. "Holy shit," he whispered. It was eight in the morning. The battles started in half an hour.

Pyro looked down at Engineer. His eyes were bloodshot, with deep bags under them. His skin was pale, and his fingers kept twitching. His eyes darted this way and that, as if he was waking up from a hundred-year sleep. They mumbled something in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Py. Just wish I had a bit more time. Go get ready, I'll meet you out there." He waved them off, looking back to his blueprints. They put a gloved hand on his arm. "Yeah, I'll be out in a sec, Py."

To his credit, he was with the rest of the team when it was time to start. But everyone noticed how unfocused he looked. He kept up his score in battle, but it was nowhere near where it was the day before, and he seemed to take the most hits. Respawn could fix death and bodily injury, but it couldn't fix everything, and by the end of the day Engie could barely stand. When they got back to base, he headed straight to his room, an idea popping into his head. He could fix the turrets. He could prove it to himself that he could get a job done. Sure, maybe this time had taken a bit more focus than usual because of Pyro, but he was certain he was near the end. Just one more thing...

He didn't hear Pyro bang open his door. He didn't see their terrified face as they took one good look at him and went rushing off for Medic. He didn't notice Medic's hurried footsteps as they followed the wildly muffling merc, not sure what was wrong with the Engineer but knowing it was bad from their shouts and gesticulations.

What he did notice was his blueprints suddenly being jerked away from him.

"What the-" he said, turning to grab them back. All he saw was Medic glaring down at him. "What _now_ ," he groaned, reaching for the papers. Medic, however, had a height advantage, and even when Engineer shot up to standing height he couldn't get his papers back. He stumbled after a short jump, the edges of his vision blackening as he fought to keep his balance. His vision returned after a few seconds, but by then Pyro had already grabbed him and forced him back into his desk chair. "What's this all about?" He asked grumpily. "I'm tryin' to work on those."

"Pyro tells me you heff been vorking on zhis for three days," Medic scolded, "vithout sleeping or eating during any of it."

"So? You've pulled some all-nighters yourself, Doc. I'm fine."

"Zhen vhy ist your nose bleeding?"

Engie put a few fingers to his nose, staring at them in confusion when they came back bloody. His shirt was covered in his own blood. _When did that happen?_ He looked back up at Medic, who handed him a box of tissues with an unamused look on his face.

"You absolutely cannot do zhis to yourself, Engineer! It is simply not healthy to vork yourself to death for three days straight! As your Medic, I am obligated to ensure the health of every man on zhis team, und zhat means _blah blah blah blah_..."

Engineer couldn't focus on the ranting Medic. All the fatigue he had been holding back through work for the last three days was hitting him with full force, and it was all he could do not to pass out in his chair. Eventually Medic noticed his glazed-over eyes and wobbling posture, and sighed. He turned to Pyro and started barking orders at them. They nodded with every instruction, and once he had left they took off their mask and suit, laying them down next to the bed. Their short red hair was slicked back from the mask, and their hazel eyes looked over him with concern. Carefully, they unhooked his toolbelt and pulled his helmet, goggles, and shirt off, fighting a blush with the last one. You could tell that Engineer spent most of his time lifting heavy machinery. Pyro's current body, luckily, was strong enough to lift the fading Engineer into bed, climbing in next to him. They started humming under their breath, rubbing his shoulders in a effort to relax him. When he suddenly jumped up and climbed on top of them, however, they froze. He stared into their eyes, his own grey ones cloudy and contemplative. He lowered himself down on top of them, and for a moment Pyro thought he was going to kiss them. At the last second, however, he fell forward, mashing his face against the bed and passing out. Pyro tried to wake him up at first, concerned with his sudden burst of energy and subsequent crash, but when he started snoring they chuckled and rubbed his back. It wasn't the most comfortable position for either of them, but at least he was sleeping.

* * *

[Author's Note: Sorry if this one doesn't wrap up completely, I promised myself I'd go to bed at 10 and it'll be around 11:30 when I publish this. I go back to school tomorrow morning.  
I've read a few headcanons about Engineer being depressed, working a lot, and being an absolute jerk when he's tired. I also read something in a Webtoon comic (the antithesis of 'summer plains') about people getting nosebleeds from being tired or stressed, and Google says it's a thing, so I wrote about it. I totally didn't base Engineer's work quirks off of my own, nope. (I have a ukelele instead of a guitar.)  
I need to have Pyro in more male bodies to balance things out, but I'm running out of ideas and writing female Pyros feels more natural. That doesn't mean I'm giving up, though!  
The next story'll either be a horror with Pyro and Heavy, a romdram (romance and drama) involving Scout and a swimsuit, or Spy and Sniper on a camping trip. Or all three at once, who knows. I'm still working on HeavyMedic ideas. But now, to bed!]


	12. Beach Trip

"Really, Miss Pauling? You'd do dat for us?" Scout said, grinning. Pauling sighed on the other end of the phone. "Yes. So long as it's only a weekend trip and you're back in time for work, the Administrator says you can go."

"Thank you. _Thank_ you. You won't regret dis, Miss Pauling. You're the best!" Scout hung up the phone, dancing in place a little. "Who's the man? I'm the man. Who's the man? Scout's the man. Who's the-"

"I am positive we are all men here, Scout. Well, except for Pyro," Spy cut in, stopping Scout's frankly embarrassing revelry. "Now, please, tell us what _exactly_ you got Miss Pauling to agree too?"

Scout stopped dancing, blushing slightly when he saw the whole team was staring at him. They had all gathered in the common area after dinner, chatting about this and that. The common area was slightly larger than the dining room, and, like the kitchen, had a sofa. However, it also had a telephone that could be used for calling family with relative privacy, as long as you didn't mind whoever was in the room listening in.

"I was askin' Miss Pauling if she'd let us go on dis trip for the weekend," Scout said, trying to sound convincing and enthusiastic without revealing his plans.

"And would you care to tell us where _zis trip_ would be?" Spy said, annoyed at how long Scout was dragging this out. Scout sighed. "Fine, fine. I was thinkin', since it's been so nice out lately, we could...uh...go to the beach?"

The room fell silent, and then Demo started laughing. The rest of the room slowly joined in, save for Engineer and Pyro. Scout went red, this time with anger, clenching his fists.

"Laddie, we're a group'a killers'n crazy people. Goin' ta beaches'n prancin' around like we're bloody Irishmen ain't exactly in our job description."

"It was nice thought," Heavy chuckled, patting Scout on the back. The boy nearly fell over, and he turned to scowl at the Russian.

"Fuck you guys! I try to do one nice thing for youse and ya laugh in my face like I'm some kid! Fine! I guess we'll just...just hang out here and do nothin' all weekend! Buncha ungrateful assholes...couldn't give a damn...job description..." He turned to walk out of the room, muttering to himself. Engie stood up, sighing.

"Look, y'all, why don't we hear him out? We made him bowl with us. Wouldn't hurt to do the kid a favor. Besides, it'll be cold soon, and then nobody'll want to go anywhere. Might as well do what he wants, just this once. Alright?"

There was a general mumle of discontent throughout the room, but eventually there were nods and sighs of agreement. As much as they wanted to laugh Scout off, Engineer had a point. And it had been awhile since they'd gotten out for the whole weekend as a group.

Scout beamed. He looked like a kid in a candy store. "You won't regret dis, guys. Dis is gonna be awesome." And, with that, he rushed off to his room, cheering and almost skipping the whole way.

"He seemed...happy," Heavy said. It was all he could say. Engineer sighed, sitting back down on the soda and picking up his drink. "See how easy that was? And now he won't be a moody li'l ass all weekend. Problem solved." He raised his bottle in a toast. "You're welcome."

"You're forgetting zhat you heff volunteered us all for zhis trip," Medic pointed out. "Und ve shall now all be expected to..." he racked his mind for beach activities, "...go to zhe beach."

"Medic, 'ave you ever actually _been_ ta tha beach?" Demo asked. Medic looked like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "I...er...zhere vas not much time for such luxuries in zhe earlier parts of my life." Demo cracked up laughing. "Whaddaya know. Big smart Medic's never been ta tha beach! Well, now we'll 'ave ta fix tha, aye?" He laughed, toasting back to Engineer with his bottle of Scrumpy.

"Is not big deal," Heavy said seriously. "I have never been to 'beach' either. Was no beach in gulag. No beach in mountains. First time I see shore, was on boat ride to America." His serious words quieted the group for a few minutes, as they were reminded of Heavy's rather unpleasant past. Suddenly Soldier, who had been unusually quiet this entire time, piped up.

"WE'LL HAVE TO SHOW THESE FOREIGN MAGGOTS WHAT A REAL AMERICAN BEACH IS LIKE! WE'LL HAVE A BARBECUE, AND SWIM ACROSS THE OCEAN TO FIGHT EUROPE, AND SHOOT OFF FIREWORKS WITHOUT A PERMIT LIKE _REAL MEN_!" He didn't have a glass, so he pumped his fist in the air.

"Then it's settled," Engineer said, standing up and stretching. "Beach tomorrow. Ain't it your turn for dinner, Doc?" He walked out of the room, Pyro hot on his tail.

Sniper turned to Spy. "Wot are we, invisible?"

Spy scoffed, and Sniper glared at him. "You know wot Oi mean, Spook. Yer alright with goin' to the beach?"

Spy shrugged. "I am not overly opposed to ze idea. It would be good for Scout to stop moping around ze base for five minutes. And I am sure ze rest of you will find a way to make it enjoyable."

"You're gonna get absolutely smashed, aren't you?"

"But of course."

That night, after the dinner dishes had been cleaned and Scout had stopped floating on the ceiling, Engineer lay in bed with Pyro. The mumbling merc had started forcing him into bed before them to make sure he got enough sleep every night. It was a little annoying at first, but he had to admit that he liked Pyro being assertive. Their short black hair and blue eyes looked amazing tonight, and he was thinking about them in a bikini when he realized the problem.

"Py," he said, "how are you gonna...handle tomorrow? What are you gonna do?"

They shrugged. Truthfully, while Pyro loved the feeling of scalding shower water on their shoulders, they had a deep and real fear of drowning. It was one of the few things they had carried with them from the past. Some water was alright, but too much water was dangerous. Their plan was more or less to play in the sand the entire time and hope Scout didn't try to drag them under.

"Y'know," Engie smirked, "you can talk to me if you've got somethin' on your mind. I can practically see those gears whirrin' up there. What're you thinkin' about?" They stared at him, and he saw those gears whir even faster. That was how brains worked for Engineer; they were complicated clockwork machines that whirred at the speed of light. His had gotten close to overheating several times, and he could see Pyro's getting to that level. He wasn't really complaining, he thought they were cute either way, but he didn't understand why they couldn't just talk to him. They had a voice. He had heard them singing, even whispering before. So why did they only use it behind the safety of the mask? What were they so insecure about with their voice that they had to hide it from him?

He pushed away his own frustration when he saw Pyro finally open their mouth. They hung it open for a few minutes, as if still deciding on what to say. And then, before he could react, they jumped out of bed and ran over to his desk, grabbing a pencil and a pad of paper. They jumped back into bed, sitting up and sketching something. He couldn't help but grin at the way their eyebrows furroughed as they focused on the paper. When they turned the pad towards him, he could make out a figure, sitting in a circle of water. The figure had a tight, scared body posture, but a gas mask concealed their features. Engie looked over the drawing, his smile fading.

"You're...scared of water?"

They made a big gesture with their hands.

"A _lot_ of water."

They nodded.

"That makes sense, I guess. But what are you gonna do? Play in the sand the whole time?"

They nodded again, wrinkling their lips in a way that meant "yeah, pretty much".

"Well...alright. You know how to build sand castles?"

They pinched the air, tilting their head back and forth. He snorted.

"Well, lemme tell ya, Py, I'll show you how to build a real sand castle. A sturdy one. We'll build somethin' off the cover of an architectural magazine. You mix the sand and water just right, and then you pack it all with-what are you drawing now?"

Pyro held up the pad again. This time, they had sketched a sentry with surprising deftness. Engineer burst out laughing, and the sound brought a wide smile to Pyro's face. They put the pad and pencil down on the nightstand just as Engie pulled them in, still laughing. "C'mere, you!" He kissed them on the forehead, still shaking with laughter. He tucked their head into his chest and kissed their hair, and they wrapped one of their arms around him. "We'll build whatever you come up with, Py. Hell, I'll build you a whole army'a sentries if it'll make you happy."

They mumbled something without opening their mouth, and Engineer's eyes widened. He heard their voice. Sure, maybe they weren't speaking, but it was still noise. It was still conversation, in a way. He kissed their head again, and then they fell asleep together.

"Get out of my van."

"But I'm the only one who knows the way to the beach, Snipes!"

"Get out of my van, Scout."

"Aww, c'mon, won't ya let me drive, just dis once? I gotta practice if I wanna get good at it, right?"

"Scout, if you don't get the fuck out of my van in five seconds, we're leavin' ya behind."

Scout sighed, climbing out of the driver's seat. "Fine. But I get shotgun!" He sped around to the passenger's side before Spy could finish objecting. The Frenchman sighed. It wasn't worth arguing about. Besides, he knew Scout's turn wouldn't last long, not if he continued to touch and fiddle with everything in sight. Sniper was neurotic about his van, and not even Spy was allowed to touch the radio.

Eventually they all piled in, holding various bags. Not all of them had swimsuits of their own, but not all of them really cared if their clothes got wet. The heat in the dustbowl did wonders for wet clothing, though Spy did wonder how Sniper would react to five wet men trying to climb into his van.

The ride to the beach was a long one, but luckily the dustbowl wasn't as far from the beach as it had been from the bowling alley. Pyro kept drawing something on Engie's pad of paper, but would hide it whenever Engie tried to look. He was stuck in the middle this time, with Heavy and Medic in the back with him and Pyro. Demo, Sol, and Spy were in the middle seat, with Spy leaning back to put his feet on the top of Scout's chair, much to the boy's annoyance. They finally pulled up at the beach, and the team piled out of the car, half of them going to change, the rest setting up camp on the beach. There was a volleyball net already set up, and Soldier picked up the volleyball lying in the sand. "WHO WANTS TO FIGHT A REAL AMERICAN?" Demo rushed forward, and the two started up the most intense game of beach voleyball the world had ever seen. Sniper, meanwhile, set up a couple of beach chairs and an umbrella. Spy took off his suitjacket and lay in one of the chairs, trying his best to get his whole body under the umbrella. His skin, usually kept in the shade, burned easily, and the last thing he wanted was to battle with a sunburn. Sniper lay down in the sand, his hat and shirt next to him. He had no interest in swimming, or doing anything other than tanning in the sun. Many would compare Sniper to a dog or a snake, but in all honestly he was more like a cat. He preferred solitude, warm sun, and getting to do whatever he wanted.

When Scout came back from changing, he ran straight for the water, diving in and swimming off with a whoop of joy. Engineer chuckled, already setting up an area near the shoreline for sandcastles. He had come in a pair of shorts, and had left his boots in the van. There was no point trying to march around in the sand in steel boots. Pyro walked behind him, looking out at the ocean with wide eyes. There it was. All that water. It made a shiver run down their spine. They sat down in the sand next to Engineer, watching him mark a rectangle in the sand. "This'll be the area. Everythin' we build'll be inside here. Now, all we gotta do here is..."

They spent the next hour or so constructing a near perfect replica of the dust bowl. Pyro wondered if there was a way to melt the sand into glass to make figures. They were about to mumble the idea for Engineer when Scout ran up.

"You two ain't swimmin'?" he asked, tapping Engie's goggles. "I bet dose goggles're great for swimmin'. And dat mask! Hell, your whole suit looks like it'd float out there!" He grabbed Pyro by the arms, dragging them towards the water. They tried to pull away, but Scout was fast and had a strong grip. By the time they managed to pull away, Scout had already dragged them out into the water. They tried to swim back, but the water tugged at their suit and pulled them farther away from the shore. Their head went under, and the air holes in their mask did nothing to keep the water out. Their mask started to fill up with water, and they coughed painfully, splashing like a madman.

"Py! Stop movin'!"

They heard Engineer shout and listened to him, going as still as they could. They felt his arms around their waist, and then their head was above water again, letting them breathe. Engineer had his goggles on over his eyes. Scout had been right, they were great for swimming, but his being right was the last thing on Engineer's mind as he carried Pyro across the beach and behind the van. They pulled off their mask while he looked around for witnesses. Water poured out of it, and they kept coughing, struggling to get air in their lungs. Engineer rolled the door of the van open, letting them sit down and hack their lungs out. He patted them on the back gently, trying to both sooth them and get the water out of their lungs.

"Are you ok?" He asked, putting a hand on their head. They nodded a little, then shook their head a lot. He sat next to them on the floor of the van, and they leaned against him, noticing for the first time his lack of shirt. _He must have just torn it off and ran after me,_ they thought. The thought normally would have made them blush, but their face was already red with asphyxiation.

"Py...talk to me."

That just seemed to set them off again, and they clutched at their throat before covering their eyes with their hands and shaking their head. They couldn't. They couldn't talk to him. But they didn't know why. They wanted to talk to him, but they _couldn't_ , and it made them want to puke. They felt like they might, actually.

When they were finished expelling all the water and breakfast from their body, they felt Engineer rub their back. "I went and got your drawin' pad. Scout was tryin' to look at it, but Heavy threw him into the ocean." He grinned, laughing. Pyro nodded, pulling themselves together and sitting back up in the van. They took the pad with shaky hands, the pencil waving back and forth in their gloved hands. They started to draw a few letters, but ended up dropping the pencil, putting their head back in their hands. Why couldn't they write to him? What was wrong? Why did communication hurt so much?

"Don't strain yourself, Py. It's ok."

They shook their head, reaching down and picking up the pencil. They scratched out their attempts at letters and started sketching something on the paper. They moved with dark, heavy strokes, making rough shapes and images. At one point, they yanked their gloves off with their teeth, using their bare hands to smudge the pencil markings and draw smoother, gentler lines. Their face was a mix between concentration, anxiety, and fury. Finally, they lay back on the floor of the van, thrusting the pad at Engineer. He took it carefully, concerned by the tears now running down Pyro's face.

The picture depicted a drowning figure, reaching upwards under the water. In the water with them were jumbled letters, some in languages Engie didn't understand. They were all pulling the figure down. Above the water was another figure, this one with black glasses, and this figure was reaching downwards, trying to save the drowning figure. There were other figures above the water, all reaching down for the drowning figure, but under the water were darkness and question marks that latched on to the figure and kept them from breathing. Lurking just in the background was the image of a gas mask, and Engie noticed that each of the figures above the water had the same features as the other team members. A mask, a bald head, a baseball cap, an eyepatch, a helmet, a pair of sunglasses, and pair of regular glasses all denoted who was who.

"Py, this is..." he shook his head, searching for a word that meant even more. "...beautiful. But...I'm still not sure what you're talkin' about here."

They sat up, looking at the pad. They pointed to the letters in the water, the mask in the background, and the figures above.

"The people on the top are...us, the rest of the team. And that's you in the water. But...all these letters...they're holdin' you back? That doesn't make any sense."

They smiled sadly and shook their head, pointing to a question mark hooked around their ankle in the drawing.

"It's not supposed to make sense? Is that it? You can't...you can't tell me because you don't understand yourself?"

They nodded, not looking at him. He wrapped an arm around them, pulling them in close. "It's ok. As long as it's both of us, right? We'll be confused together." They still wouldn't look at him, and he planted a kiss on their head. "You feel well enough to go back out there?" They shrugged, reaching for their mask. It still had a little water in it, and they shook it out, sniffing. They made sure it was mostly dry before moving to put it back on, but Engie stopped them.

"Py, I...could I..." he sighed, shaking his head. "Never mind. You still up for castles?"

Spy was horrendously drunk. He had brought an empty sunscreen bottle full of alcohol with him, and was slowly getting wasted under the umbrella. Sniper was asleep in the sand, having been buried by Pyro after they came back from the van. Demo had passed out in the sand as well, the volleyball game having ended long ago when Soldier spiked the ball too hard and split it open, but Pyro had managed to find two seashells and had placed them on his chest, building an enormous tail over his legs. Engineer had helped with the sand, only pausing to glare at a soaked Scout finally crawled out of the water. He had been caught in the same current as Pyro, but had refused Heavy's offers to carry him back to shore. The Russian had been wading in the water the entire time, occasionally looking over at Medic, who had taken Sniper's other beach chair and set up with a medical book. Medic didn't particularly care for swimming, though he could occasionally be convinced to stand on the edge of the water with Heavy. He had spent most of the day reading his books and watching Pyro freak out about the water. As the team's medic, he should have known more about Pyro than anyone else, and he did to an extent, but he didn't know everything. He knew about their drastic physical changes when exposed to respawn, but knew nothing of their mental state, or why they chose to wear the suit all the time, or even why they refused to speak. He was sure their reluctance to communicate stemmed from some psychological trauma, but he was a doctor, not a psychologist. Besides, as long as they weren't causing trouble and were helping Engineer with his forced insomnia and depression, he didn't really care. He had bigger worries on his mind. For example. the way Scout was now trying to steal Spy's bottle of sunscreen without the Frenchman noticing. Somehow, Spy had still been able to move the bottle every time Scout had tried to grab it. Drunk or not, Spy was a hard man to trick.

As the sun started to set, Soldier swam back into shore, having attempted to make good on his promise to swim to Europe to fight the whole country. He hadn't gotten very far, and was now soaking wet as he tried to convince Medic to let him start a bonfire with some of his books. It had been a long day for everyone, and so when Sniper finally woke up, pulled himself out of the sand, and called the team back to the van, nobody resisted, not even Scout. All the swimming and excitement had somehow tired him out, and he fell asleep almost as soon as he climbed into the backseat with Soldier, Demo, and Heavy. Spy took his rightful place in the passenger's seat, and the remaining three mercs filed into the middle, with Pyro taking the window seat. They had tucked the notepad into the seat cushions after flipping it to a blank page, but were too tired to notice Engie pulling it out, or Medic picking it up and looking through it when Engineer fell asleep on top of Pyro. The doctor was slightly disturbed by some of Pyro's drawings, but he had to admit they were highly skilled works of art. Perhaps Pyro had been an artist in their past life. He only thought about it for a few moments before he was fighting off sleep as well.

When they got back to the base, Sol and Demo snuck off without a word, while Sniper helped the drunk Spy back to his room. Heavy was torn between carrying Medic or Scout back to their respective rooms, but Pyro solved that problem by offering to carry Scout to bed themselves. This confused everyone, especially Engineer, but Pyro gave mutters of assurance and lifted the boy with relative ease. They figured out where Scout's room was and dropped him on the bed, pulling the blanket over him and turning to sneak out. When Scout sat up in bed, however, they stopped in their tracks.

"Py?" He said groggily. They turned around, staring at him.

"Did you just carry me in here? But I thought..." he looked down at his hands for a moment. "I thought you were my ma."

They took a few steps closer, confused, and Scout woke up a little more. "She always had dis way'a carryin' me, pressed right up against'er, and you're..." his eyebrows furrowed, and he looked up. "What the hell are you, Py? You were a guy the other day when I took your suit, but...just now, you had...what the _fuck_ are you? Why'd you look like somebody else in the showers when I saw you? How come you got red hair one day and black the next? Am I seein' things? What the hell is goin' on here?"

They shushed him, pushing him down in the bed to calm him. He softened a little bit, but still looked at them with suspicion. "What are you, Py? Some kind'a...demon or somethin'?"

Their sad shrug was the only answer he got. They stood up, moving towards the door. They had pulled it open when he called their name again. They didn't turn around this time, but stopped.

"I'm sorry. For draggin' you in the water earlier. I didn't know you was afraid'a it or somethin'."

They nodded, shutting the door behind them. Scout lay down, eyes open. He had never felt more confused in his life. What the fuck was under that suit? Why did he keep on screwing up and making Pyro upset? He'd never really wanted to hurt them, but mean words just came out of his mouth whenever he saw them. They just made him want to scream. What was wrong with them?

What was wrong with him?

He flicked off his light and tried to get some sleep, a bad feeling burning in his stomach.

Engineer had changed into dry clothes by the time Pyro got back to his room, but Pyro's clothes were still damp from the water. They were warm by this point, but still uncomfortable. Engineer had planned for this, and had grabbed a set of pajamas out of his closet. He didn't really care about changing for bed, since most of the sleep he got was after long hours of work when he was too tired to change anyway, but he knew Pyro didn't have anything new to wear. He let Pyro stand in a corner of the room and turned his back while they changed, humming to himself as he waited. The pajamas were a little too big for Pyro, but the pants had a drawstring and nothing was falling off. Sure, their hair was still wet, but that didn't matter as much to them. Once Pyro heard Engie humming, they walked over, sitting next to him on the bed and putting their head on his shoulder. Engie tried not to jump as he felt the soft vibration of Pyro's humming against his back. They were humming with him, just like when they had been singing together before. Engineer sung a few words, stopping after Pyro's humming faded out. He sighed.

"Sorry. I just...forget sometimes. I don't wanna push you or anythin'. C'mon, it's late."

" _Now you know...you still excite me..._ "

"Py, please." He turned to look at them, their eyes squeezed shut.

" _I know you...love me like I am..._ "

"Py, you're hurtin' yourself." He could see the lines of pain and concentration in their face as a hand rubbed their throat.

" _Just once more...I wish...you'd love me..._ "

"Py? Py, look at me." They had started coughing, but struggled to keep going.

" _On the blanket..._ " Their throat caught, and they bent forward, gasping for air. They kept coughing, face red. They would have fallen on the floor had he not grabbed them. Tears came to their eyes as they shook, and eventually their coughs became sobs. Why was this so damned hard for them? What had they gone through in the past that made speech so impossible? Had they always been like this, or was it respawn taking a toll on their mind? They felt Engineer get up and leave the room for a few minutes, giving them a chance to cry, then pull themselves back together. By the time he got back with a glass of water, they had stopped crying, though their face was still red. They looked up at him, taking the glass he offered with shaking hands. They sipped at it carefully, the cool liquid soothing their throat.

"Want anythin' else? Tea? Cocoa?" Engineer offered, but Pyro shook their head. They just wanted to sleep. They climbed into the bed, and Engineer followed them, rubbing their back as their breath slowly changed back to a normal rhythm. He turned down the lamp on his desk to darken the room a bit, and the pulled the blanket up over Py's head so that they were fully cocooned. He hated watching them hurt themselves like that, especially when they did it for him. He didn't care if they never spoke to him. He just wanted them to be ok. He buried his face in their hair, breathing in the seawater. He had been really scared today, afraid he was going to lose Pyro in some way. But they seemed alright, even if they were still hurting. He just didn't want to see them as depressed as he was.

Engineer made a vow to himself that night. No matter what, he would keep Pyro happy and smiling. He wouldn't let Scout or anyone else make them cry again. They were his little flame baby, and he planned on seeing that bright smile again, whatever face it was on.

[Author's Note: Boy, I can't wait to see how many words I put in this one. Holy dooley.

This story was supposed to go after the HeavyMedic one, but I started writing that story on my school chromebook and it's not with the rest of my stuff on this computer, so I plan on writing that one when I go back to school next week. We had a snow day yesterday, and how I didn't convince myself to immediately write a snow story I'll never know. Maybe I'll do it after the HeavyMedic one, and have Scout get lost or something.

Towards the end of this fic, I was looking up speech disorders, and came across one called Apraxia of Speech. I think it makes sense for Pyro, since they understand language and know what they want to say, but can't speak without some effort on their part. It could also be Conduction Aphasia, which would point to brain damage as the reason for their mutism. It started out as selective mutism, but I'm still researching things.

If you're wondering why they're afraid of writing, or their traumatic past, you should think to yourself, "It's just a fic, I should really just relax."]


	13. Люблю Gehirnerschütterung (HeavyMedic)

_"But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the one who is loved."_

― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

All men had their habits. Spy chewed his nails. Sniper flipped his machete and played with his scope. Scout bounced his leg. Medic's nervous tic, however, was lip biting. He chewed on his lips when he thought nobody was watching, and sometimes even when they were. It brought him back to reality when his mind wandered, and it kept his hands steady.

It was this particular tic he was displaying when Heavy found him packing a small medical bag, muttering something about mountains and rare flowers under his breath.

"Where is doktor going?" Heavy asked jovially. It had been a good day for the team, winning victory left and right. Their week was almost over, and the weather was nice, so most of the team was in a good mood. All except Medic. He was focused in on one thing that Heavy could not understand. Unlike Engineer, who would force himself to obsess over a project until it was complete, Medic was the kind of person whose mind would snap on to one topic and not leave it until another came along. It was an involuntary obsession rather than a forced one.

When he recieved no response from Medic, Heavy stayed there, watching the smaller man pack. He figured he would humour Medic's obsession this time, and make sure his doktor didn't hurt himself. He had nothing to do with his afternoon, and he thought Medic was ridiculously cute when he was focused. There was this look he would get, this focused mug of concentration, that would tickle Heavy's funny bone. Maybe it was the way Medic's perfectly combed hair would muss up when he was too zoned in on a subject to notice, or the way his glasses would slide down his nose and fall off at just the right angle when he fell asleep in a book and woke up suddenly. Whatever it was, it drove Heavy mad.

Suddenly, Medic straightened up, grabbing his bag and marching for the door. Heavy moved out of his way, then turned to follow him. He made a joke of it at first, but raised his eyebrows when Medic strode out of one of the back doors and marched towards the edge of the dustbowl. "Doktor?" Heavy called, following him up a large hill that overlooked the battlegrounds. He looked around when he got to the top, letting out a breath of air in awe. The sun had just started to set over the dustbowl, and the sun turned the world into a mix of blues, pinks, and oranges. Heavy searched his mind for the perfect phrase to describe it. With a PhD in Russian Literature, he had a wide variety of quotes stored in his brain, but the books and essays he had studied in college were more political than idealistic, and didn't talk about beautiful things like sunsets after a long day. As Heavy closed his eyes and turned, flicking through the contents of his brain like they were a book, Medic slipped and fell off a cliff.

Heavy heard the doctor fall and his eyes snapped open, running to the spot where Medic had just been standing. "DOKTOR!" he yelled, looking for a safe way down the cliff face. He climbed down as quickly as he could, having never been the most acrobatic of people, and rushed over to where Medic had fallen. Medic's leg was sticking out at an angle that made Heavy's stomach turn, and while he was breathing, he wasn't conscious. Heavy gingerly lifted Medic's head, sighing with relief when he saw it wasn't bleeding or smashed open. Respawn could save them on the weekends the same way it did in battle, but outside of a certain range it took longer to respawn and it wasn't entirely painless. The team generally tried to avoid dying the two days of the week they were allowed to do so.

When Medic's eyes fluttered open, Heavy felt his heart skip a beat. "Doktor?" he asked, still checking the smaller man over. Medic drowsily slapped his hand away, scowling. He sat up, grunting in pain and clutching his skull.

"Move slowly, doktor. You fell hard."

"Don't baby me!" Medic snapped, rubbing at his temples. He checked himself over, scowling when he saw his broken leg. He swore in German, reaching down and feeling it over with practiced fingers. He grunted slightly, snapping his bone back into place, and Heavy fought not to look away. He dealt with this kind of thing every day, he saw more injuries day in and day out than any doctor had, but usually the wounds he inflicted were with bullets, and his targets were gone before he could get a good look at them. He was never close to the wounded BLUs, and he rarely saw his teammates in the state Medic was in now.

Once Medic had set his leg back into place, he patted around him, obviously looking for something. He moved to rub his eyes, only to stop when his hand clinked against the glass. "Oh," he said, removing his glasses with a confused look on his face. "Ich dachte sie waren…" He rubbed his eyes, replacing his glasses and squinting at Heavy. "Hold up one hand."

Heavy obeyed, holding up one of his large hands and splaying the fingers wide. Medic glared at him. "I said one hand!"

"I am only holding one hand," Heavy said, his level of concern growing. "Doktor, you are alright, da?"

"Ja, ja," Medic said, waving his hand to the left of Heavy. "It is probably only a minor concussion. Nozhing to vorry about." He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers grazed the lump on the back of his head. "Vhere exhectly are ve?" he asked, looking around as best he could with blurred vision. "You do not remember?" Heavy asked. Medic shook his head. "Zhe last zhing I remember vas getting home und looking for...somezhing." He rubbed his forehead, trying to remember. It was no use; the concussion had taken some of his short-term memory away. The best thing for him to do now would be to go back to the base, heal himself up with the medigun, and work from there. Business as usual.

"Doktor, is getting dark," Heavy said, kneeling down. "Will you be alright if I carry you?"

Medic nodded, bracing himself. He tried not to scream with pain when Heavy slid his arm under his legs, but only a blind man would have missed the look of agony that flashed across his face. Heavy held Medic close to his chest for a few minutes while he observed the canyon they were in. He could get up, but it would involve carrying Medic over his shoulder. "This will hurt, doktor," he said as he shifted the smaller man's position.

"Vhy do you call me that?" Medic asked, a little irratible now.

"Call you what?"

"'Doktor'. You know I lost my medical liscence years ago, I told you zhe story vhen I first Ubered you. So vhy do you keep calling me that?"

Heavy paused, thinking as he gripped the rocks in front of him and started to climb. "Soldier does not serve in war, da? But he is called Soldier just the same. He is not soldier, but he does the job, so he is called Soldier. Is same concept." He turned his focus to the rocks, and Medic turned his focus to not throwing up on Heavy. By the time Heavy had pulled himself up over the cliff, Medic was green and breathing heavily. Heavy sat him down on the ground, and he threw up over the edge of the cliff. The only thing that kept him from falling down again was Heavy's hand on the back of his shirt. Once he was finished, and had started shaking so much he could not stand it, Heavy moved to pick him up again. This time, the hug was less utilitarian and more nuturing, and Medic found himself falling asleep in Heavy's tender embrace. _Es ist nur die Gehirnerschütterung,_ he thought, trying to rationalize his emotions as usual. He was drowsy from the lump on his head. That was why he felt so comfortable in Heavy's arms; it was like being under a warm blanket.

Heavy did not notice that Medic had passed out until they got back to his room. It was dark outside now, and in a few minutes Scout would be bursting in the door to let them know dinner was ready. Heavy set Medic down in his bed, which was tucked so tightly you would have been able to bounce a quarter off of it. There was a slight bump under the pillow, and as Heavy lay Medic down he pulled a copy of Master and Margarita out of the pillowcase. He smiled. He knew this book. It was fairly new, and he had only gotten the chance to read it after many negotiations with Miss Pauling. Getting her to make a simple book run hadn't been hard, and neither had explaining to her why he wanted it, but a single book was easily forgotten when there were loads of weapons and hats to be delivered. Gently, Heavy flicked through the pages, wondering how Medic had managed to get a copy. He didn't recall the German asking to borrow his copy, and he was under the impression that Medic knew no Russian, but when he flipped the book open he saw that he was holding an English translation. Reading English wasn't hard, he understood the languages, but it had certain nuances that often confused him. Since he knew the original story, however, he found it easier to understand the passages that Medic had highlighted.

 _"In order to be in control, you have to have a definite plan for at least a reasonable period of time. So how, may I ask, can man be in control if he can't even draw up a plan for a ridiculously short period of time, say, a thousand years, and is, moreover, unable to ensure his own safety for even the next day?"_

 _"O thrice-romantic Master, would you not rather take long walks in a blooming cherry tree alley with your friend and listen to Schubert in the evenings? Would you not rather write by candlelight with a quill pen?"_

Heavy smiled as he read the familiar text. This was something to bring up the next time he talked to Medic. For now, however, he studied the hanging Medi-Gun on the ceiling, figuring out how to turn it enough to reach Medic.

When Medic woke up, there was a steaming bowl of soup next to him, and his copy of Master and Margarita had been flipped open to a particular section.

 _"How sad, ye Gods, how sad the world is at evening, how mysterious the mists over the swamps! You will know it when you have wandered astray in those mists, when you have suffered greatly before dying, when you have walked through the world carrying an unbearable burden. You know it too when you are weary and ready to leave this earth without regret; its mists; its swamps and its rivers; ready to give yourself into the arms of death with a light heart, knowing that death alone can comfort you."_

He read it and quickly flicked the book closed before he could spoil any of the story for himself. He was a stickler for reading everything in order, and while his mind was still taking notes and trying to decipher why Heavy would have left him this particular portion of text, he didn't want to risk ruining the significance of it later on in the book. He felt over his head and leg, sighing with relief when he saw they had fully healed. Good. He could continue his work without worrying about a smashing headache or a bad leg. Teaching Heavy to use his Medi-Gun was a good idea after all.

Medic climbed out of bed, moving the bowl of soup to his desk and looking over his notes as he ate. Heavy had left another note on top of his notebook, and Medic picked it up, slowly deciphering Heavy's dark, messy handwriting. The note wasn't anything special, just a reminder of yesterday's events and a request for him to get some rest today. Medic found himself smiling as he read it. Heavy could be incredibly sweet at times, especially when he was being protective. Sure enough, after he had finished eating, Medic found himself doing less work than usual, and the work he did was less strenuous. When Heavy poked his head in the door to let Medic know about dinner, the smaller man was reading a book in his bed, glasses pushed up on his nose and a strand of hair tucked behind his ear. The Russian smiled. "Did you rest, doktor?"

Medic looked up, pulling himself out of his book and nodding. "I decided it vould be best after zhe events of yesterday. You vere right, I do feel better."

"Good. Spy is cooking tonight."

"Wunderbar. Will you walk with me?" He put his book down and stood up, adjusting his hair and glasses. Heavy waited by the door for him, and the two men walked to dinner, talking quietly and joking about the most ridiculous things imaginable. It was a match made in Heaven, and both men thanked their lucky stars that they had each other to rely on after a hard day.

* * *

[Author's Note: YEAH I WROTE A WHOLE FANFIC BASED AROUND A BOOK I'M READING IN ENGLISH CLASS OK FITE ME

I'd already had the idea for the whole "Medic gets hurt and Heavy saves him" thing, but I just had to put in the quotes. It's a cute little bonding thing.  
At first, I was gonna make this story happen with Sniper and Spy, but it just felt better to have Heavy and Medic do it. Don't worry, they get some sweet stuff in the next chapter!]


	14. Scout in the Snow (slight SniperSpy)

Scout rubbed his eyes, sitting up in bed. He stretched, yawning. He could feel his thoughts coming into focus, his brain speeding up to almost impossible levels, carrying him up and out of bed, getting him dressed, and propelling him upstairs for breakfast. His brain often thought faster than his body could cope, and as a kid he had often tripped over his own feet. It felt some days as if he was being pulled on a leash, and he found it hard to wind himself down at the end of the day. It was part of why he had little to no filter when it came to the things he said; his thoughts jumped from place to place and he didn't have time to make sure what he said was nice or appropriate.

He was rifling through the fridge for breakfast when he realized the room was perfectly silent.

Usually, mornings in the base were filled with the other men (and Pyro) getting ready for the day. Scout could listen to five arguments about bathrooms and battle plans before he even got to the kitchen. But today, it was silent. There wasn't even an announcer's voice telling them to prepare for their mission. It was a little creepy.

"Hey!" Scout yelled. "Anyone up?"

No response. Sighing, Scout opened the front door, figuring he could ask Sniper what was up.

He was met with a deathly cold breeze and a snowball to the face.

"What the-"

He was met with Pyro's muffled laughter, and quickly wiped his face off, running out into the snow to chase after the firebug. The rest of the team was already outside, playing in the freak snow storm. Medic had grumbled earlier about how unlikely snow was in New Mexico, but when Engineer pointed out that they lived in a world with head-shrinking wizards and ressurecting machines, Medic shut up. He liked the cold anyway, and he knew Heavy did as well. It reminded them of home. Sniper, however, hated cold climates, and was not used to snow at all. He'd spent most of the morning curled up in his van, grumbling about how he was going to freeze to death.

Scout ducked as an invisible snowball flew by his head. "Spy!" he yelled, throwing an unrolled wad of snow towards the shimmering figure beside him. Spy could hide everything but his footprints in the snow, and while the disadvantage put him on edge, it didn't stop him from enjoying tossing snow around like a child.

The REDs ran around in the snow for awhile, and then Scout got the idea of getting the BLUs involved. A massive snow battle erupted between the two teams, almost as vicious as a regular fight, but with an air of casual fun around it. Instead of worrying about bullets and guns and respawn, the mercs were focused on grabbing snow and rolling it as fast as possible. It was the most fun many of them had had in awhile, and it was a welcome break from the monotonous fighting they went through every day.

After awhile, a ceasefire was called, and both teams went back to their bases to warm up. It wasn't until Engineer and Pyro started to pass around mugs of hot chocolate that Spy noticed Scout was missing. He glanced around the room, hoping to see the boy sitting in a corner of the room or on a chair somewhere, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Has anyone seen Scout?" He asked, trying not to sound too concerned. The rest of the mercs looked around, apparently noticing Scout's absence for the first time themselves. Most of them shrugged, but Pyro raised an arm, mumbling something.

"They said they saw him marchin' off somewhere after BLU Spy hit him," Engineer said. "Wait, hit him?"

"I 'eard 'im talkin' about ruinin' 'is suit or samthin," Sniper chimed in. He turned to Spy to say something, but the Frenchman had already run out the door.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! He should have kept an eye on him. He was supposed to keep him safe, dammit! He was supposed to watch over him without compromising himself. That was what he had decided to do upon learning that Scout had been recruited into Team Fortress. Keep close, but not close enough to draw attention. Keep him safe, but not safe enough for the boy-or anyone else-to suspect anything. How was he supposed to tell her he couldn't even keep promises he made to himself?

He ran down to the snowy battlefield, shivering slightly as a gust of icy wind blew at him, freezing the skin around his eyes and mouth. He remembered that Scout had come outside wearing only his usual t-shirt and pants, and the thought made him run faster. "Scout!" He yelled, starting to lose his composure. He didn't see any traces of the boy in the snow around him, but the yelling he heard up ahead was enough for him to follow. He cloaked and ran faster, stopping when he saw the source of the noise.

Scout and the BLU Spy were fighting on top of the frozen river that ran through the dust bowl. Spy could just barely hear what they were yelling, but their argument wasn't what he was focused on. He paid more attention to the BLU Spy's hands, what they were reaching for, and the crack in the ice under Scout that seemed to be spreading.

Before he knew what he was doing, Spy's knife was out, his long legs carrying him towards his BLU counterpart faster than he could register. He didn't stop to think about what he was doing, didn't pause to reflect on their uncanny similarities, didn't even notice the ice break under Scout as he pushed past the boy as he tackled the BLU man, knife against his throat.

"Touchez mon fi- le garçon de nouveau, et je vais te peauner vivant," he snarled, driving his blade into the other man's chest and ensuring the man would have a painful respawn. When he snapped out of his protective rage, he realized he couldn't hear Scout anymore. He spun around, an inhuman sound coming out of his mouth as he saw the cracked ice where Scout had been standing. He jumped up as fast as he could, running over to the river and looking for any trace of Scout. The boy hadn't floated far, but he was partially under the ice, and wasn't moving. Before he had time to think, Spy had taken off his jacket - his custom-tailored Louis Crabbemarche' jacket that he cherished like a child - and had dived into the river, reaching as far as he could under the ice to grab Scout. The water was freezing, and Spy gritted his teeth as he stuck his head under the water so he could reach. He finally pulled Scout out of the river and hauled him out into the snow, shaking like a leaf. Scout's breathing was irregular and his face was slightly blue, but once Spy had pounded on his chest a few times, he spat out some water and opened his eyes.

His vision was blurry, and it felt like his heart was beating out of his chest. He saw a patch of red above him and blinked, trying to see who it was. He heard them mutter something, but his mind was slower than usual, and even more unfocused.

"C'est bon, Jérémie. Vous êtes en sécurité maintenant. Il est parti." Spy rubbed Scout's forehead in an uncharacteristic moment of tendernes. Scout mumbled something, but words weren't coming to him easily. He blinked a few more times, trying to wake himself up, mashing his lips together to warm them. He didn't feel cold, though he could see whoever was holding him was shivering violently.

Spy tried to stand Scout up, hoping he had kept enough of his coordination to avoid being carried, but the second Scout was upright he went tumbling forward, nearly falling back into the river. Spy pulled him back into a seated position in the snow, grabbing his dry jacket and wrapping it around Scout. Scout tried to shrug it off at first, but Spy's grip was firm. He gingerly picked up the boy, holding his body close to his chest as he walked back to the base.

Scout was unconsious by the time Spy got back to his room, and Spy was both worried and grateful. Scout had tried to pull himself out of Spy's grasp several times, when he wasn't mumbling incoherently. He had almost dropped the boy when they came inside, and was very fortunate he hadn't gone into cardiac arrest. He was no medical expert like Medic, but he knew what hypothermia was, he had experienced it himself, and it was no picnic.

He placed Scout on the floor next to his bed, yanking off his wet t-shirt, pants, and socks. He lifted the boy into bed, tucking him under the large comforter he slept with. He took a moment to listen to Scout's breathing and heartbeat, both of which were eerily slow. He was wondering whether or not to get Medic when Sniper walked in the door.

"Bloody hell," he said when he saw the pale, unconsious Scout and the exhausted, nervous wreck of a Spy standing over him. "Wot 'appened?"

"He was fighting ze BLU Spy," Spy said simply, "and fell through ze ice."

"Ice? Where'd we get...oh." Sniper looked back to Scout, still sleeping like an angel in his bed. He stepped toward him, but when he noticed Spy's posture stiffen, he moved back.

"D'ya need anything? Hot towel, soup, change'a clothes?" He settled for placing his hand on Spy's shoulder, which seemed to calm the Frenchman down a bit. He brought himself out of whatever thoughts he'd been having and turned to Sniper, sighing. "I suppose a change would not hurt. I imagine the boy will want food when he wakes up. Other than that...I do not know."

"Want me to get Medic?"

"No." That was the last thing he needed right now. He didn't need Medic seeing his failure. Failure to protect someone who meant so much to him. Failure to meet the highest standards he held himself to.

"...kay," he heard Sniper say, and jerked himself out of his thoughts. "What?"

"I said, he's goin' ta be ok. You went after 'im, that was more than the rest of us did. You got 'im back 'ere, did all you could do. She'd be proud a'ya. I know I am." Sniper gave Spy one last soft smile before leaving the room in search of dinner. Spy was again alone with his thoughts.

It was maddening for him sometimes. She had been the light of his life, and part of him would always hold a candle for her, but having someone like Sniper so close...he thought over it every day. She and Sniper had not been his first lovers, but they were the first two he remembered loving. He could not imagine having to choose between one or the other. She meant family, stability, finally owning up to his mistakes and _talking to her_ after all this time, but Sniper...he was physical, he was deep, he meant danger and uncertanty and _thrill_. He didn't know which was more terrifying, going back to her and living a normal life, or staying with Sniper and throwing away any chance at normality. He craved both, and he would have both if possible. But over-indulgence was a sin, and look where it had gotten him already.

Someday he would have to explain all of this to Scout. Someday. When he was older, or ready, or when Spy felt the moment was right, he would tell him. But sometimes he wondered if it wasn't a question of Scout being ready so much as it was a question of him being ready himself.

When Sniper came back with Spy's clothes, Spy went to change, and Sniper was left alone with Scout. He sat in a chair next to his bed, studying the angles of Scout's face. Sniper knew the thoughts that kept Spy awake at night, that kept him from congratulating Scout too heavily after he got top kill. He sometimes worried that Spy would one day snap and go back to her, and he'd never see him again. Those worries were usually quenched when he realized the visions of Spy happily living with a wife and kids made him feel warm instead of jealous. He had Spy now, even though he could be a bloody cunt at the worst of times, but once all of this was over and they figured out where to go with their lives, he would have to come to terms with Spy's decision and live with it. Whatever made Spy happy, he was content to live with.

Spy came back quickly, dressed in a new (identical) suit, and Sniper stood to let the shorter man have the chair in front of the bed. He leaned against the back wall, closing his eyes as they waited for Scout to wake up.

When Scout opened his eyes, he was warm, almost sweating. The first thing he saw was Sniper leaning against the wall across from him, his glasses falling down his nose in his sleep. The second thing he saw was Spy, sitting in a chair next to his bed. The third thing he saw was a pile of his wet clothes lying on the floor.

"What..." he mumbled, trying to reach down and grab his clothes. How had he gotten back here, why was he in his underwear, and why were Spy and Sniper in his room? The last thing he remembered was fighting the BLU Spy. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

"Hey!" he yelled, waking the two older men up. They jumped awake and turned to him, worry etched into their faces.

"Why so serious?" He asked. "What the hell are you two doin' in here, anyway? Did I get pranked or somethin'?"

Sniper looked to Spy, hoping he had a plan, only to pale when he saw Spy had the exact same expression as he stared back.

Less than two minutes later, the two men were running down the hallway as fast as their legs would carry them, screaming as Scout chased them out of his room with a bat. "And stay out! Old bastards..." He went back into his room, slamming the door.

"I think...he's stopped...chasing us..." Sniper said once they were almost up to the main floor. Spy collapsed onto the staircase in front of him, lying down as much as he could against the stone stairs. He hadn't run like that in years, and part of him wondered if this was how he was going to die. He gasped for breath, the visible parts of his face red.

"You alrigh', Spy?" Sniper asked, just as exhausted. He sat down next to the Frenchman, doing his fair share of gasping and groaning.

"Zat was terrifying," Spy admitted, reaching around for a much-needed cigarrette. He pulled one out and lit up, breathing in the nicotene like it was an asthma inhaler. Once he'd calmed down, he leaned back, closing his eyes. He hadn't realized he'd been crying until Sniper looked over and asked him if he was ok a second time. He wiped at his face, sighing.

"He's a stubborn little arse, just like 'is dad," Sniper said softly. Spy snorted. "I zink it would be better if he was not like me. Let him play with his 'baseball' and his girls. It is a better life for him." He rubbed his face with one hand, eyes still closed.

"Wiffout you, ye mean?" Sniper asked. Spy shrugged. "It is dangerous enough having him here, even without him knowing about me. If the only way for him to live a long life is for him to never see me again, I would gladly disappear."

"D'ya think 'e'd be 'appy if ye left, though?"

"Joy is secondary to his safety."

"So you don't care if 'e's 'appy, as long as 'e's safe? You'd leave 'im miserable just ta protect 'im?"

"You make zat sound like a bad thing."

"It is a bad thing, Spy! My parents worry about me, Oi know that. They 'ate my job, Oi think they'd prefer if Oi went inta lawyerin' or samthin', but they just want me ter be 'appy wiff wot Oi'm doin'! If leavin' would make 'im miserable, then stay! Tell 'im the truth! 'E can keep 'imself safe, and if that doesn't work, you can be there for 'im. That's wot a _father_ is supposed to do." He said the last part softly, inches from Spy's face. Spy was looking back at him now, and Sniper could tell the man was holding back tears. He gingerly wrapped his arms around Spy, letting the smaller man bury his head in his shoulder as he struggled to regain his composure. When Spy finally pulled back, he wiped at his eyes before standing up.

"I am going to go back to my room. Tell the others not to expect me at breakfast."

"You're not goin' alone."

"Please, Sniper. I just need to be alone right now. Allow me some peace."

Sniper sighed. "Alright. But I'm comin' after you if you don't show up fer lunch."

Spy nodded, snickering a little at the thought of Sniper coming after him, and walked back to his room, a lot on his mind. Sniper yawned, rubbing his back, and headed out to his van. He expected this wouldn't be the last time he saw the Frenchman today.

* * *

[Author's Note: Hey! It's been awhile. Comic #6 absolutely killed me. Scout and Medic names, confirmed Spy-is-Scout's-dad, and HeavyMedic bonding! It was so good and honestly I could gush about it for hours.  
This storyset does take place before the comics, in an alternate universe. I say that both to keep things straight, and to keep things from being disproven when #7 comes out and reveals stuff. Just thinking ahead!  
I'm running low on ideas, but I'll start scouring headcanon pages and fanfic prompt generators for ideas. If you'd like to see anything in particular, this fic has an ask blog on tumblr. The link is in my profile description. Please don't be shy!

I don't know how Sniper found out, and I don't know if Scout's Mom knows that Spy is Scout's dad. We'll have to wait for the comics to reveal all. Till then, think about it on your own!]


	15. 3:24 am

Pyro's eyes snapped open. They sat up, pulling themselves out of Engie's arms and swinging their legs over the end of the bed. They put their head in their hands, trying to rub away the fear of whatever had woken them up. Now that they were awake, they didn't even remember what they had dreamed about that made them so afraid. They just knew that it was bad enough to leave them shaking and nauseous.

Engie was still asleep in the bed. Unlike Pyro, he was a heavy sleeper, and it would take a lot to wake him up. After a few moments of deliberation, they climbed out of bed and walked out into the hallway. It wasn't pitch black in the base at night, but it was eerily quiet, and they were even more on edge when they got to the kitchen. They looked around the room with a cautious eye as they waited for the water for their cocoa to boil, and by the time they had a steaming cup of chocolate in their bare hands, they felt safe again.

Suddenly, there was a hand on their shoulder.

Pyro jumped, boiling water slopping out of the cup and onto their hands. They hissed, dropping the mug. It shattered as it hit the ground, and the voice behind them swore. They grabbed a shard of mug off the ground and spun around, pointing it at the intruder.

Spy stared down at them, an expression of confusion, fascination, and worry covering what they could see of his face. Their arm started to shake as they realized they weren't wearing their suit.

Spy stared down at the girl in front of him. She had short brown hair, hazel eyes, and pale skin, but what he recognized most was the look of childish fear on their face. No spy who looked like this would sneak into the base unmasked, and the other seven mercenaries were presumably asleep, so that left one option left.

"Pyro?" he asked, getting his answer from the way Pyro's eyes widened in horror. He gave their body another once-over with his eyes, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Scout hadn't been the only one to see Pyro on the day he stole their suit. Being a spy, it was his job to observe his coworkers and their habits. He had assumed Pyro was a scared man with black hair, but the face that stared up at him now was almost foreign to him. Were they a spy as well, and wore their mask the same way he wore his balaclava? Why would they be here, disguised, without their suit? They couldn't be a spy, he was certain the only other spy here was across the field in the BLU base. He didn't have enough information to understand Pyro.

Pyro took a step back, a bare foot stepping right on a shard of porcelain. They hissed, snapping out of their frozen fear, and moved against the counter, trying to pull the sharp object out without getting blood everywhere. They watched as Spy's hands pressed against their foot, applying pressure to the wound while he looked around for the kitchen's first-aid kit. He grabbed it, and with one hand pulled open a bandage, slapping it on their heel.

"Give me your hand," he said, and they looked down. The hand that had been holding the mug shard had been cut as well, and blood was now running down their arm. They sheepishly stuck out their arm, letting him take away their only means of protection and wrap their hand up with a bandage. They kept waiting for the questions they couldn't answer. _Are you always like this? What's wrong with you? What are you?_ However, Spy continued to say nothing. He moved them out of the radius of the broken mug and grabbed a broom from the corner, sweeping up the mess with a blank expression on his face. Once the floor was reasonably clean, he leaned back against the counter, looking at the pot of hot chocolate that was quietly cooling on the stove. He reached up and grabbed a sturdier mug out of the cabinet, filling it up and handing it to Pyro. They took it without a word, and he walked them over to the couch, sitting them down. Once they had calmed themselves down again, Spy started talking.

"Do you speak without ze mask?"

They shook their head, a hand rubbing their throat in remembrance of the day they went to the beach. It still hurt to even try talking. They looked around for a pencil and some paper, eventually spotting some supplies over by the fridge. They jumped up and grabbed a pencil and a blank sheet of paper, setting the latter down on the coffee table.

"Can you write?"

They shook their head again, and turned to the paper, sketching out a tiny version of their mug. Spy looked at it, surprised at the dexterity and detail.

"Who knows about what you look like under your suit?"

They sketched Engineer, Medic, and Scout, putting a little question mark next to the last drawing. Then they drew Spy next to Scout.

"Why have you not told everyone? Surely it would be easier zan hiding yourself under the suit?"

They shook their head, circling their ear with a finger. They made two horns with their fingers, then shook their head.

"It is a crazy idea...and you do not want zem to see you as a monster?" Spy said, struggling to understand Pyro's makeshift sign language. They nodded.

"Why would zey see you as a monster?"

Pyro turned back to their paper, taking a longer amount of time to sketch their reply. They handed Spy a picture of several different people, all with different genders, hairstyles, and overall appearances, all wearing the pyro suit. They had drawn a little respawn system in between each person. Spy stared over the image with confusion and mild fear. How could such a thing be possible? Forced disguises, or transmutation or some sort? The picture gave him more questions than it did answers. He turned to ask them another question, but paused as he watched them drink the last of their cocoa and yawn. He looked at his watch, blinking hard when he saw how late it was. He was about to dismiss himself when Pyro handed him the piece of paper again, this time with a sort of cryptogram. There was a drawing of Spy, picture of a bed with an X on it, and a question mark.

"For ze same reason as you, I suppose," Spy replied, standing. "I could not sleep. Would you like me to walk you back to your room?"

A few minutes later, Pyro was back at Engineer's room, waving good night to Spy. He walked back to his room, utterly confused. They slipped back into bed next to Engineer, who didn't even stir when they pulled themselves tightly up against him.

* * *

[Author's Note: I know this is short, but I wrote this last night in the first burst of inspiration I've had since the Scout chapter, and I couldn't think of anything to add today. I just kinda wanted to post something so I could stop worrying about being inactive. Of course, if you're reading this a few months down the line, it doesn't matter, but sometimes you just have to make yourself happy.

I've got a few more ideas stored up, but I have no idea how to write them. I wanna have Pyro interact with the rest of the mercs in some way, but I'm still thinking of ideas. pls help]


	16. Jam Session (some BLU Flash Fire)

"One, two, three, four..."

Engie ran his fingers across his guitar strings, grinning as Medic and Sniper readied their instruments. An indescribable need for music had come over the team after Scout had walked in to dinner humming some newfangled tune. The three men who knew how to play instruments were set up just outside the base, enjoying the familiar warmth. The hot weather had come back, and with it the regular battles, but the men were happy to get out of the base and back into the action.

The tune they ended up playing was highly improvised, with Medic leading most of the melody and Sniper coming up with a beat on the fly. There wasn't much actual dancing going on at the moment, though Scout was trying to convince Demo and Sol to join him. Spy leaned against the wall of the base, smoking and trying to wish himself out of the situation.

Suddenly, the door of the base slammed open, and Pyro walked out, a small object in their hand. They reached up and twisted off the mouth hole of their mask, sticking the object inside. What followed was the most complicated, ear-melting kazoo solo any of the men had ever heard. Engineer almost lost his grip on the guitar as his mouth dropped. The intensity of Pyro's music put a new burst of energy into the musicians, and they started up a new tune, this time incorporating Pyro's passionate kazooing into their ensemble. Heavy stood up, dancing along to the beat as Scout cheered him on, the boy bouncing around on his toes to the beat. Demo decided he was drunk enough to start dancing, and jumped up, dragging Sol with him. Even Spy had to tap his foot as he listened.

Half an hour later, the band stopped when they saw the BLU's marching up the hill towards them. Some of the men on their team were carrying various instruments, and the BLU Scout ran forward.

"Yo, can we play wit' you guys? We heard the music from our base."

Sniper looked suspicious, but Engie examined the instruments with a careful eye. Their Medic had a viola, their Engineer had a bass, and their Spy had what looked like a clarinet. They seemed to be a good match for the REDs.

"Sure. It'd liven up the joint." Engie gestured to his Sniper and Medic. "Go ahead." The three BLUs joined the band. Pyro lit up with their kazoo again, and the rest of the men joined in, quickly picking up a rhythm. BLU Scout started dancing with his Pyro, much to RED Scout's chagrin. The DemoSol pairs started a dance competition, which both Heavys and the RED Scout quickly joined in on. BLU Sniper joined RED Spy on the wall, pulling out his own pack of cigarettes and lighting up. He glanced over at the Spy, who was busy watching the band; specifically the RED Sniper. The BLU Spy was just a touch too close to the Sniper for his counterpart's comfort, and RED Spy had a look of jealousy on his face that made BLU Sniper wince. He was more focused on the two Medics. While BLU was fully concentrated on his music, RED would occasionally look over at his Heavy and smile or nod his head. BLU Sniper smiled at the way his Medic had his eyes closed, as if the music was flowing through him and moving his fingers like a puppet's. BLU Sniper had often been treated to his Medic's viola practices during the wee hours of the night. His Medic had a habit of picking up the instrument every once in awhile when he was working on something. Out of all the BLU members, Medic was the one who stayed up the latest. Their Engineer slept way more than his RED counterpart, almost to a worrying degree. Their Pyro and Scout were usually in their room before bedtime, goofing off until they were tired enough to sleep. Their Spy kept himself far removed from the rest of the group, and their Heavy didn't have much to keep him occupied after dinner. Their Sniper, however, spent most of his nights observing his Medic at work. Unlike his RED twin, he didn't spend much time in his van, preferring to spend it with his favourite crazy German. It was interesting to see the kinds of kooky things his Medic could come up with, and he was happy to help with whatever his Medic wanted to do.

The Sniper snapped out of his thoughts, deciding to make conversation with the RED Spy.

"Good crowd, huh?" He asked, mentally slapping himself for saying something so stupid. BLU Spy would have walked off without a word, and his Medic would have given him a look that implied he was crazy. RED Spy, however, stopped staring at his Sniper, turning to the BLU with a shrug of his shoulders. "Zey are not awful. Quite good for improvisation. I take it you do not play any sort of musical instrument?"

The Sniper raised his eyebrows. This Spy was much more talkative and... _friendly_ than his own Spy. He kind of liked it. It was nice to imagine his Spy with an expression of something other than contempt or disgust.

"Nah. Never 'ad the time fer it, really," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "You?"

"I had...ozer interests on my mind," Spy replied. He looked over at the BLU with curiosity. The man seemed surprised that Spy was even giving him the time of day. Perhaps his BLU counterpart was not as sociable as he was, or he and the Sniper weren't on good terms. The implications of a single BLU Sniper sent a dirty thought through Spy's mind, but he quickly squelched it.

"So, ah, yer Medic ain't...'e's not, uh..." The BLU Sniper was blushing. Spy raised an eyebrow. Were the BLU Sniper and Medic...but then, what about their Heavy? The difference in partnerships was astonishing. Spy found himself looking over to where the BLU Scout and Pyro were dancing. It was a strange sight to see. A boy who looked just like Scout, yet wasn't...did they share names? Parentage? Could the BLU Spy be doing a better job of distancing himself? He would have to take notes.

"What do you know of your Spy?" he asked simply. Sniper leaned back against the wall, shrugging. "I dunno. 'e never really 'angs around much. Always off plottin' or samthin'. 'ardly ever says a word ta the rest've us 'cept fer swearin'."

"And your Scout?"

"'e talks. A lot. Especially when 'e's drunk. 'e said 'is dad died in the war when 'e was eighteen, and...you already met 'is stepmum."

"Stepmother?" Did he mean-oh.

 _Oh_.

"'is real mum died in a ware'ouse fire when 'e was seven. Didn't you know?"

"Of course not," Spy scowled, turning away to hide his ashamed face. He was supposed to know these sorts of things as a Spy. It was his whole job, _bon sang_! He clenched his fists slightly.

"What about your Pyro?"

The Sniper shrugged. "You'd 'ave ta ask Scout about that one. Two of 'em never leave th'other's sight back on base."

"They are...together?"

"Constantly." The Sniper rolled his eyes. "It's almost disgustin'. The rest've us don't even know what 'e looks like under the mask, and Scout's always mackin' on 'im like it's the end of the world."

"He?"

"'s what 'e likes. We don't argue. What, yers a girl'r samthin'?"

Spy hesitated. Perhaps the BLU Pyro was not as strange as the RED one was? He mentally slapped himself for not asking Pyro more about themselves the other night. They had seemed fairly keen on getting to bed, though, and he hadn't felt like pushing them.

"Non. They just...prefer to remain ambiguous."

The Sniper shrugged again. "Alright." He turned his attention back to his cigarette, and Spy turned his focus back to his own Sniper.

Scout eventually realized he was the only one dancing without a partner, and looked around for a few minutes. Once he realized there was absolutely nobody left to dance with him, he looked over at the band, whose lively tune still had him bouncing a bit.

 _Y'know what,_ he thought, _fuck it. I can dance just fine on my own. Better, even. No shame in dancin' alone if you're da best one out there._ And with that, he started moving in some sort of bizarre pattern, combining all of the dance moves he had learned and seen into one motley style. A few of the other men laughed at him, but stopped when the BLU Scout walked over and started moving with him, mimicking his movements. The two Scouts started dancing together, the BLU one eventually moving closer and grabbing on to his counterpart. They ended up doing some bizarre form of swing dance, only stopping when BLU dipped RED too deeply, his face just a little too close to his twin's. Scout stumbled back, falling squarely on his rear. The other Scout stood up, concerned, then bent down to help the RED off the ground. "You ok, babe?" He said, holding out his hand. Scout slapped it away, backing up. "What the fuck was that?" he looked up at the BLU with a mixture of horror and disgust. "Did you just try ta fuckin' _kiss_ me?!"

BLU Scout straightened up almost immediately, eyes going wide. He turned to BLU Pyro, who was staring at him with folded arms. "I swear I wasn't! I just got a li'l close, honest! Py!" He yelled as the BLU Pyro walked off to the edge of the group. He moved to run after his Pyro, but stopped, whirling around to glare at Scout.

"Whaddaya you got against gays, huh? You got a problem with me'n Py?!" His hands were balled into fists, as if he was thinking about beating the shit out of Scout. Before he could, however, the RED raised his hands.

"I ain't got nothin' against you an' your Py, promise. Just...I ain't...I just ain't, ok?" He stood up as gracefully as he could (which wasn't very graceful at all). The BLU Scout just scoffed and walked off, running over to console his Pyro.

 _Real smooth, Jeremy,_ Scout thought, rubbing his face. _You managed to piss off the one other person in this pit who could'a been your friend._

 _Fuck off, Spy,_ he thought back. It was much easier to dispel negative thoughts if he imagined Spy was saying them. He dusted himself off and sat down in the dirt by the door, not wanting to be out here any more but not wanting to be alone inside either.

The band played for another few hours, until the sun started to set. As it started to get dark, they wound down, playing a couple of slower songs. With nothing better to do, Spy made his way over to where Scout was sitting, holding out his hand.

"Fuck off," Scout said. "I ain't dancin' wit'chu."

"Are you sure? Zis may be your last opportunity."

"I said fuck off."

Spy sighed. "Scout, please. Indulge me. I promise to leave you alone afterwards."

"You promise?"

"Sur mon honneur."

"As long as that meant 'yeah'." Scout stood up. Spy took Scout's left hand, placing his own left hand on Scout's waist. Scout tried to pull away, but Spy's grip was tight.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Hell no!" Scout replied.

"Fine. You do not have to. All you have to do is follow my lead." He placed Scout's right hand on his shoulder, and then started to lead the boy in a proper ballroom circle. Somehow, the boy managed to avoid stepping on Spy's shoes or falling over, and Spy didn't make any moves on the flustered Scout. When the band finally came to a close, Spy released his grip on Scout, who jerked away like he was on fire. Spy shrugged and walked over to help Sniper load his saxophone back into his van. Slowly but surely, the band broke up, individual members walking back to their bases. It was too late to have dinner (though that didn't stop several team members from raiding the fridge), and every team member went back to their room exhausted.

Scout curled up in his bed, mind still racing with ways to apologize to the other Scout. He'd made a fool of himself and pissed the BLU off, and he'd have to fix that eventually. It just wasn't good to have the only other boy his age pissed at him, no matter how aggressively gay he was.

As Spy hung his suit up by the door, his thoughts lingered on the sight of Sniper's fingertips on the keys of his saxophone. He would not deny the thoughts were dirty, but he didn't plan on sharing them with anyone any time soon.

Over in the BLU base, the Scout and the Pyro were preparing to go to bed. The Pyro took off his suit, shaking out his curly blond hair and sighing. The Scout was still pouting at the foot of the bed. He had apologized several times, and Pyro had forgiven him, but he was still pissy for some reason, and a pissy Scout was no fun.

The Scout felt Pyro's bare hands on his shoulders, and he sighed. "I know. It was an accident. But I got so _mad_ at 'im, Py. It's embarrasin'."

Py hummed a gentle tune to him, and he sighed. "You're right. You're always right. I love you, Py."

He smiled, lifting Scout and carrying him to bed. He climbed into bed next to his smaller companion, kissing the boy softly on the forehead. It never failed to amaze the BLU Scout. His Pyro could be incredibly fierce in battle (especially in the last few minutes where they miraculously managed to capture the point despite spending twenty minutes running around with no success), but without the suit he was always so tender and caring. It made Scout's heart melt.

The two of them fell asleep in each other's arms, unaware of the same thing happening across the base. RED Engie and Py had gone to bed almost as soon as they got inside. As BLU Pyro turned out the lights, RED Pyro had shed their rubber suit and had thrown themselves into bed, groaning with exhaustion. "You said it," Engie had replied, taking off his boots, helmet, and goggles. Without any persuasion, he had climbed into bed next to Py, kissing them on the cheek before turning out the lights and passing out cold next to them.

* * *

[Author's Note: AUGH WRITER'S BLOCK IS SO INTENSE

I finished reading the last of _Machines Don't Bleed_ today and oh my god it was freaking amazing as usual! It's the last part of the _Eight Mercenaries and a Toddler_ series, which is honestly my favourite TF2 fanfic series. If you haven't read it yet, I _highly_ suggest you do. It'll rock your whole world.

I've got another story I'm writing, but that one might take a little longer, and I wanted to get something posted. It's an hour past my bedtime rn because I was working so hard to finish this, so if you see any errors please forgive me.

I've actually started playing Team Fortress 2 this week. I'm still in training, and I haven't actually attempted any online games for fear it'll break my computer, but it's still pretty good. I'm doing a one character a day regimen, and today (Thursday) was Pyro day. Tomorrow is Heavy day, and I'm looking forward to that even more than Pyro day. :)

Next story won't have much (if any) Texas Toast, but it will have everyone's favourite crazy German doktor!]


	17. A Day at BLU Base (two BLU ships)

[Author's Note: ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS CHAPTER ARE BLU. I'M PUTTING THIS UP HERE SO I DON'T HAVE TO WRITE 'BLU' BEFORE EVERYONE'S NAME. ENJOY. :)]

* * *

Scout yawned, sitting up in bed. Pyro was still asleep next to him. He was an amazingly adorable sleeper, and it was all Scout could do not to roll over and kiss him right there. As his thoughts sped up to their usual adrenaline-inducing levels, he climbed out of bed and started his daily routine, brushing his hair, putting his hat on just so, and wrapping his wrists and knuckles. As he finished wrapping, Pyro woke up, stretching. He smiled down at him. "Sleep well, babe?"

Pyro nodded, getting up and getting dressed in their usual t-shirt and shorts. Once they had their suit on, the two of them walked to breakfast, stopping at Engineer's room on the way. Engineer was the kind of man who fought crippling insomnia at night, and then crashed just as the sun rose. Some days he was so tired on the battlefield, he would build a sentry and dispenser next to a point that had already been captured. The team resented him for mistakes like that, but he didn't really care. He just wanted to sleep and tinker. There wasn't much else for him to do in life. His room was a cluttered mess that only Scout could navigate without hurting himself, and Engineer had several bumps and bruises from tripping over things in the middle of the night. He had plans to clean up the room, but had never actually attempted to do so.

As they entered the kitchen, Medic and Spy were already in their daily argument, shouting at each other in nigh-intelligible German. Spy didn't spend much time in his base, but when he did, he almost always got in an argument with Medic. It would start as something small, but then would escalate into a language only they understood. Scout didn't really care where Spy had learned German, but he wished someone could translate, or at least get him some popcorn.

Sniper and Heavy were in the corner, playing chess. Occasionally Sniper would look over at the argument with concern, but Heavy shared no such worries. He and the doctor weren't as close as the pair from RED. Heavy wasn't interested in Medic, or anyone else on his team, the same way Sniper was. And why should he be? Who needed battlefield romance when he had Sasha and all the bullets he could fire? Sure, maybe once this war was over, he would find himself a bride and retire quietly, but in his heart he never wanted this war to end. The rush of adrenaline and the beautiful sound of the machine gun in his hands were enough for him.

Demoman and Soldier were off somewhere, making crazy battle plans. The two of them were inseparable, though their relationship was easier to define than the one their RED brothers shared. After the friendship between Soldier and the RED Demo had been quashed, Soldier had bonded with his own Demoman. The two of them were partners in crime, sharing a mutual love for explosions and spraying blood. Demoman didn't need alcohol to keep his blood pumping when he had Soldier running into his room every day screaming about raccoons or rocket-jumping or some such adventure.

Eventually, the argument between Medic and Spy dissipated, mostly because the bell that signaled it was time to head to the battlefield. Sniper hung back to talk to Medic, who was still muttering under his breath in German.

"Das Arschloch würde nicht wissen, ein anständiges Paar von Daumen, wenn sie ihn in den Rücken gestochen..."

"You ok, Doc?" Sniper asked. Medic sighed, running a hand through his hair the way he always did when he was nervous or upset. Sniper put his hand on Medic's shoulder to calm him, but the older man shrugged him off.

"Nein. It vill be better for me to be angry out zhere." He grinned evilly.

Sure enough, he was more ruthless in his methods that day, more focused on what he was doing. Like the rest of the team, he was an adrenaline junkie, but he was more reserved about it. He kept up the face of the stern, strict military doctor, assuming it was the only way he would get respect out of his teammates. Really, he would much rather spend all of his time in his room with his birds and crazy experiments. Unlike his RED counterpart, Medic was more interested in psychological experiments, which were much harder to do when you had such a small group of test subjects. He spent more of his time taking notes and observing the behaviour of the other mercenaries. He knew Engineer was heavily depressed, Scout had some sort of attention disorder that made him incredibly hyperactive, and Soldier had been drinking lead-poisoned water for years. He hadn't really done anything about them, though. Sure, he had tried giving Engineer coffee instead of decaf tea one morning, but he had just passed out at the first point and had been awake all night. His limited access to drugs meant he couldn't do anything about Scout, and Soldier was beyond hope.

After screaming at Spy for most of dinner (a rare second fight), Medic stormed off to his room, his posture rigid. As soon as he stepped over the threshold of his room and closed his door, he let out a deep sigh and shrugged off his equipment, hanging it on the wall. He gently set his glasses down on his desk as he took off his gloves and lab coat, hanging them over his chair. He stretched, grunting slightly as his back popped. He walked over to his bed and sat down, peeling off his boots and socks before lying down and rubbing his eyes. He was tired from a long week, and thanked his lucky stars he only had a few more days left before he could hole himself up in his room and read for two days.

He sat up, grabbing his viola case off the floor and putting it on the bed. He hung his legs off the bed and tuned, putting on his chin rest and making sure his bow was properly rosined. He didn't have any sheet music with him, but he had a few tunes committed to memory, and he ran through one of them. His fingers moved rigidly to the rhythm of the tune, tracing out a song he had played many times before as the low hum of the viola resonated in his chest. His mind went somewhere else when he was playing, to some cloud where all his musical knowledge was stored. He didn't have to focus on anything but holding his instrument properly.

When he'd finished, he noticed he was no longer alone in the room. Sniper was standing next to his desk, a plate of food in his hands. He had been watching Medic carefully, locked into the same trance Medic had just come out of. When Medic set his instrument down, Sniper snapped out of his trance, blushing slightly. "I brought dinner," he said, gesturing to the plate in his hands. Medic packed up his viola and took the plate from Sniper, smiling gratefully. He didn't do a whole lot of smiling around the rest of the team, so whenever he did smile at Sniper, the Australian felt his heart race. He sat down in the desk chair, watching Medic eat dinner, trying to think of any conversation topic that would interest the doctor. Medic watched the slightly taller man's face stiffen and contort as he desperately searched for something to say. Suddenly, Medic pressed his index finger to Sniper's lips.

"If it vill take zhat much effort to talk," he said softly, "zhen don't." He smiled at Sniper's confused face. "I have done far too much talking today." He set his plate down on his desk, lying back on his bed. "I vould not be opposed to you doing all of zhe talking if you had something to say."

Sniper sighed, taking off his aviators and hat and lying back next to Medic. His glasses were prescription, but he only needed them to see long distances. Neither he nor Medic needed their glasses to see their faces, which were inches away from each other. These were the moments they craved; when they could just lie down and talk about anything that crossed their minds.

"Do you ever wonder why we're here?" Sniper said, staring up at the ceiling.

...

Pyro sat down on Scout's bed, running his hands through his hair. Today had been good, and now all he needed was Scout to make it better. Sure enough, Scout walked in the room a few minutes later, setting his baseball cap on his dresser and ripping off his shirt, flinging it into a pile of dirty laundry in the corner of his room. He grinned at Pyro, running and leaping into his bed next to the firebug. He gave Pyro a quick kiss before pulling off his shoes and socks and slipping under the blanket. He wrapped his arms around Pyro's neck, rubbing it gently. He pressed his lips to Pyro's, smiling slightly as he felt Pyro wrap his arms around his waist. After about half an hour of making out, Scout pulled away and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. "Good night, babe," he sighed before passing out.

* * *

[Author's Note: Yeah, I know. This one isn't about RED Medic. The next one isn't, either. That one's gonna take a bit longer to write. But I got two chapters written this weekend and I didn't want to have them sitting around when I could be putting them up now. It won't change anything if I put them up right now and put that one up later.

My biggest problem with Bush Medicine is that, while the fanart makes me ship it, all the fanfic I've read with Sniper makes me ship him and Spy. I've never read a fic with Bush Medicine, and I almost don't want to. But if anyone has any recommendations that are SFW, PM me and I'll read it right away!]


	18. Audrey

_"Audrey!" They called, smiling as the toddler waddled into the room. Their daughter was about two years old now, and only grew more beautiful every day. She had her father's icy blue eyes and the smile of her other parent. She was a talkative babbler, and her favourite toy was her father's work goggles. She loved watching him work, and she especially loved making noise with him when he pulled out his guitar and started singing to her._

 _They picked Audrey up and put her into her high chair before setting a small plate of food in front of her. They had gotten better at cooking in the last few years, and now only burned food every once in awhile. He never got mad at them for it, though, and was more than happy to help whenever they felt like they might burn something. He was in his workshop right now, tinkering on something. Now that he had a greater variety of projects to work on, he could work from home and still make enough money to support their small family._

 _They still got letters from the others every once in awhile, saying that they were happy and safe and living their lives. It was nice to know that all of their old coworkers were enjoying their freedom._

 _He walked into the room, smiling at Audrey. "Da!" She yelled, pointing at him. He chuckled, picking her up and twirling her around. "Howdy, princess. Hungry?" He kissed her forehead, and she screamed with laughter. He set her back in the chair, letting them feed her. When she'd finished lunch, Audrey stuck her arms out, waiting for him to pick her up. He put her on his shoulders, walking her around as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She rested her head on top of hers, cooing happily._

 _That night, after a nice dinner and an adorable jam session, they tucked Audrey into her bed, kissing her on the forehead as she smiled up at them._

 _"Ny," she mumbled, closing her eyes. They stayed there with her until her breathing slowed, then they stood up and walked back to their room. They had been living in their home for five years now, and the simple beauty never failed to amaze them. They were in a nice community, with a white picket fence and a lawn he worked at when he wasn't tinkering. It was a quaint little house, just for the three of them, and they had never felt at home anywhere else._

 _As they lay down in bed, he smiled at them. He wrapped his arms around them and pulled them in close, kissing them lightly on the lips. They smiled at him, closing their eyes. They felt his hand on their shoulder, and he began to rock them back and forth softly._

 _"Pyro..." he said._

 _"Pyro..."_

"Pyro..."

Pyro opened their eyes. Engie was staring at them, his hand on their shoulder. They blinked in confusion, looking around at their surroundings. They were still in Engie's room, still cooped up in bed with him. They ran their hands down their body as if checking to see if it was still there. They looked back at Engie, remembering his face. They had just seen it, they were sure, but it had looked different...

"Sorry to wake you, Py, but we gotta get up. Good dream?"

They nodded, climbing out of bed reluctantly. Engie started grabbing his various tools and putting them on his tool belt, not looking at them.

"You were smilin' in your sleep," He said. They nodded, smiling again.

"What were you dreamin' about?" He asked. They sighed. The events of the dream were already beginning to float away from them. It had felt so _real_. But Engie didn't need to know what little they did remember. It would just confuse him. They moved the thought out of their mind.

Later that day, Engie picked up the drawing pad Pyro had left on his nightstand. They had drawn on it that morning during breakfast, and had left it in the room after running in to grab something. They had drawn an adorable little toddler, with shining eyes, curly hair, and a dimpled smile that looked like it was worn often. She looked a little like him, and even had his goggles on her head. He smiled, a little confused, looking around the page for any information on who this girl was. He found it after a few minutes of looking. Carefully etched into the bottom of the page was the word "Audrey".

* * *

[Author's Note: I know this is short, but I really don't know what else I could do in this chapter. Plus, I think it's really cute. I really like the idea of Pyro, Engie, and small children. Also the setting and baby name are a small reference to a play I'm part of right now. See if you can guess?

I swear next chapter'll be the one with Medic in it. Medic, Spy, Sniper, and Scout. Fun times.]


	19. Scout, Lost and Found

"Remind me. Exactly _where_ are Scout and Sniper?"

Engineer sighed. "I don't know. Teleporter malfunctioned, sent 'em off into the desert or somethin'. They shouldn't be far, but they might need some help gettin' back here. That's where you and Doc come in."

"Me and… _what?_ "

"They could be hurt out there. You're gonna need a medic. You can't go out there alone, Spy."

Spy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Medic was the _last_ person he wanted to look for Sniper with. They got along amicably, and were almost intellectual equals, but when it came to matters where Sniper was concerned, they were walking on thin ice.

 _Medic n'a pas d'importance. Scout est là. Scout est seul avec Sniper._ His logic eased him into compliance. "Fine." he looked over at Medic, who was gazing with interest at the teleporter. The older man's thoughts were clouded, that much Spy could tell, but what particular topic made him so hard to read today was a mystery to the Frenchman.

"Y'all should be able to walk around and get back by bedtime," Engie said with confidence. He let the men head back to their rooms to grab whatever they might need, giving Spy a map and Medic a two-way radio. They met just outside the base; Medic sans his labcoat, Spy plus an extra jacket. The desert could get awfully cold at night, and he knew Scout would only be wearing his regular t-shirt. _Je ne suis pas trop proche,_ he told himself. _Je ne fais que protéger un atout précieux de l'équipe. Si le Scout obtient l'hypothermie dehors ici, il ne sera aucun usage dans la bataille de demain._ He nodded to himself, avoiding Medic's curious gaze.

They didn't speak for the first half an hour of walking. Whenever one man found a topic of conversation to hit on, he would look over at the other, only to see him concentrating on the ground or a random leaf. It wasn't until they got to the top of a hill and looked around that Spy spoke.

"How do you zink zey got transported out here?" He asked, staring out at the landscape. Medic shrugged, not turning to look at him. "Some sort of teleporter malfunction, according to Engineer. I am sure he vill have it fixed by tomorrow. Zhat man is a vorkaholic if I have ever seen one," he chuckled. Spy smirked.

"Do you zink…" he started, face falling. Medic turned, studying his face. He knew why Spy was worried. Being the team's doctor gave him certain...information.

"Zhe boy vill be fine," he said, putting a hand on Spy's shoulder. Spy shrugged him off, glaring at him. "He is _not_ ze one I am worried about."

#

"Scout, fer the last time, Oi am _not_ lettin' you play frizbee with my 'at!"

"C'mon, Snipes, dere ain't nothin' else to do out 'ere!"

"If ya ask one more time, Oi will beat yer ass back to base!"

"Yeah, like you even know where it is…" Scout muttered, looking around again. They had been wandering around in the desert for hours, having woken up in a bush with no memory of how they got there. Neither of them had any sort of weapon, a fact that made Sniper especially jumpy. They were in an open field, and could see anyone approaching, but anyone approaching could see them, too. They could be attacked from anywhere, and had absolutely no cover. His hand kept going to his belt, where he normally kept his kukuri, but the knife wasn't there to protect him. The only weapons he had were his mind, his hands, and the hyperactive boy pouting next to him. It had been Sniper's idea to stay in one area, saying that a search party would have an easier time finding them if they stayed in one spot. Scout, however, had started getting restless half an hour ago, and kept looking around for rocks to kick. Sniper kept his eyes peeled for any sort of shade, or anything to make a fire with. He could see the sun beginning to set, and knew darkness would be upon them in an hour or so. His shirt and vest would keep him warm, but he knew Scout's t-shirt wouldn't do anything for him.

"Dat's it," Scout said, jumping up. "You can stay out 'ere in da desert if you want, but I'm goin' 'ome. Dere ain't no point in sittin' out in da sun all day."

"We gotta wait fer-"

"I'm tired'a fuckin' _waitin_ ', Snipes! Dat's all you do is _wait_. Sit'n wait for somebody to shoot in da fuckin' ' _ead_. But I ain't a waiter. I don't do dat. I'm a runner. So I'm gonna run." With that, he took off into the desert.

Sniper wasn't the fastest runner. In fact, he ran about 9.4mph (1) slower than Scout on a good day. But what he lacked in speed he made up for in endurance. So when Scout tripped over a stray rock and fell hard, Sniper wasn't close behind. He ignored Scout's cries and swears of pain and grabbed his ankle, rolling up the pants leg to check the damage. Scout hadn't broken his ankle, but from the way Scout was screaming he suspected it was sprained. He sighed, sitting back in the dust.

"If you'd just-"

"Don't start. Don't _fuckin_ ' start, Snipes. I know. Okay? I know. Just...shut up." He pressed his hands to his temples, rubbing them as he tried to make the world stop spinning. He'd bonked his head on the ground when he rolled; not hard enough to give him a concussion, but enough to really hurt. Instead of a headache, however, his thoughts sped up to an unstoppable pace, telling him that it was his fault, that he should have listened to Sniper, that he shouldn't have run off, and they were gonna laugh at him when they found out he'd broken his ankle over something stupid, if he didn't die out here first. He clasped his hands to his ears, trying to make the voices stop, but they just seemed to scream louder, blasting his self-doubt and low self-esteem at a high frequency.

"Are you ok?" Sniper asked, eyebrows knitting together. Scout was starting to turn pale, and was mouthing something incoherent. At Sniper's voice, however, Scout looked up, opening one eye to look at the older man.

"Is it broken?" He asked quietly, and Sniper suddenly understood why Spy had such a hard time staying away from the boy. From what he could see, Scout looked like a scared boy who needed a hug and a glass of milk, not the cocky, womanizing 27-year-old he was around everyone else. Sniper put his hand on Scout's shoulder, rubbing it gently. Scout scowled, but didn't pull away.

"Can you wiggle yer toes?" Sniper asked. Scout scoffed. "Course I can." He demonstrated, wiggling the toe of his shoe back and forth.

"Then it's not broken. Probably just a strain. D'ya think you can stand?" Sniper kept his voice calm and quiet, speaking slower than usual. It did calm Scout down a little, though the boy refused to let his guard down. He stood up, denying any help Sniper offered him, and started limping away. He only made it a few steps before stumbling and falling again, this time swearing even harder. Sniper crouched down next to him, offering him a hand of help.

"Fuck off," Scout said into the dirt.

"To where? I'm not leavin' without you, Scout."

"Why?" Scout said, turning his head and spitting out a rock. "Why do you care? You ain't my dad."

"How d'ya know? I thought yer dad disappeared."

"Yeah. With a D. Gone. Past tense. He prob'ly ain't alive no more, an'e _especially_ ain't out here."

"Out here?" Sniper asked, feigning ignorance.

Scout closed his eyes, trying to ignore Spy's voice in his head. _He is worried. Talk to him. He will not lie to you._

 _Fuck_ off _, Spy._

Scout rolled over, avoiding Sniper's gaze. Spy's voice continued.

 _We are not so different, Scout. We both have something to hide from each other, something to hide from the world. Something that binds us in a way you will never be able to ignore._

"Fuck _off_ , Spy!" He yelled, not realizing he was speaking out loud. He sat up, pressing his hands to his ears again and shaking his head. "You ain't my dad! You _ain't_! You're a coward'n a liar'n a backstabbin' French sonofabitch! Get out of my head! I don't wanna hear you anymore!" He started slapping his temples, trying to drive the imaginary Spy out of his skull. He was dehydrating, hallucinating. Spy wasn't real. Spy wasn't talking to him. Spy couldn't hear him. He couldn't.

#

"...backstabbin' French sonofabitch!"

Spy turned sharply in the direction of the noise. He had heard Scout. He had _heard Scout_. But he still couldn't _see_ Scout.

"Did you hear that?" He asked, turning to Medic. The older man nodded. "From over there." He pointed to the other side of a large hill. It would take them at least an hour to get over it, and that wasn't counting how long they would look around on the other side.

"Zhe boy is fine," Medic reassured Spy, but the Frenchman strode off, nearly running to the hill. He was just as fast as Sniper, and reached the edge of the hill before Medic even had time to react. He quickly caught up with Spy, however, putting a hand on his companion's shoulder. "Vait. Do you have a plan?"

"Climb ze mountain. Rescue Scout and Sniper. Go home." Spy started to climb, but Medic stayed behind.

"You care for zhe boy, don't you, Spy?"

Spy stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned around to face Medic. "What?"

"Scout. You care for him, ja?"

"Of course not. He is a disrespectful, irresponsible American delinquent."

"But he is your-"

"I know what he is!" Spy whirled around, glaring at Medic with such vitriol that the older man wondered if he was about to witness spontaneous combustion. Spy caught himself, however, and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and calming down.

"He is a mistake I hope I never have to answer for. He is a constant reminder of my own irresponsibility and cowardice. But he is ze only zing zat has kept me in zis infernal desert for so long. He is ze only zing zat keeps me alive. He is my last responsibility in zis world. He is ze mistake I would give anyzing to correct. If I could turn back time, go back and fix everyzing…"

"Vould you have stayed vith him, raised him as your own?"

"...Non. My life was still too dangerous back zen. But I would not have abandoned him and never looked back. I would have been better to him. He would not be in zis desert if I had done zat."

"You have done vell. He is a strong young man, and I doubt zhat revealing yourself vould hurt him. I believe a little of your influence could make him even stronger."

"Zat, or he vould quit Team Fortress immediately and spend ze rest of his life trying to kill me."

"Do not be so grim, my friend! I am sure he vould love to have you as a fazher."

Spy gave a wry smile. "Perhaps. But not now. Not when he is still so...unstable. Someday, maybe. But...now is not ze time. As long as I am able to keep my distance, he will be safe."

#

"It's ok, Scout. Yer safe."

Scout didn't pull away when Sniper wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him in a crushing hug. The boy was still smacking at his head and groaning, but Sniper grabbed his wrists, forcing him to calm down. "Breathe with me. C'mon." He started taking deep breaths, trying to get Scout to mimic him. It worked after a few minutes, and Scout felt his mind calm down. He scrubbed at his face, trying to get himself back into order. Sniper still hadn't let go. He didn't let go until Scout came back to his senses and pulled himself out of the older man's grasp. "Sorry," he whispered, curling up into a ball. Once again, Sniper found himself amazed at how vulnerable Scout was right now. He had seen Scout get aggressive as a result of an embarrassing mistake, but now it seemed like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. Sniper kept a hand on Scout's back, rubbing it occasionally. He started to speak in soft, soothing tones, trying to keep Scout calm and quiet.

"What are you thinkin' about?" He asked, starting with a small question. Scout shrugged. "Nothin'."

"Nothin'? You gotta be thinkin' of samthin'."

Scout was silent for a full minute, and then he mumbled something so softly Sniper didn't hear him.

"Eh?"

"My dad."

"Oh." Sniper paused, thinking of what to say. "What about yer dad?"

"If he was...like me. If he, y'know, _left_...if I would...if I'm like-"

"No."

"But-"

"Scout...yer dad made a mistake when he left you. An' Oi bet he knows that. Oi bet he thinks about you every day, wishin' 'e could go back and do things right. 'E loves you, even if 'e won't admit it. If yer 'alf the man Oi know yer dad is, then yer a better man than you think you are. Oi mean that."

"You know my dad?" Scout asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. _Shit!_

"N-no. But I know men loike 'im. And they're good. ...sorry."

Scout sighed, lying back in the dirt. "Figures." He looked up at Sniper. "You really think my dad's a good person? Even after runnin' out on me?"

"Oi _know_ he is."

Scout smiled slightly, closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, then rubbed his forehead. "Can we go home now?"

Sniper laughed, standing up. "Alright. Let's go." He lifted Scout off the ground, taking most of the weight off his ankle as Scout leaned against him. They started to walk in the direction of a large hill, moving in complete silence.

"Scout?"

"Yeah?"

"Spy doesn't 'ate you, y'know. 'E never 'as. Just...remember that, yeah?"

Scout shrugged. Sniper figured that was as good as he was going to get.

#

When Medic and Spy finally got over the hill, they saw two figures in the distance. The pair was slowly moving closer, and one was leaning on the other for support. Spy started to run forward, Medic not too far behind. "SCOUT!" The Frenchman shouted, losing what little composure he had. "SNIPER!"

"SPOI!" Sniper shouted back, picking up his pace. Scout struggled to keep pace, eventually pulling away from Sniper and jumping forward on his good ankle. The four men ran for each other, meeting in the middle. Spy nearly tackled Scout in a crushing embrace, holding the boy so tightly Medic feared his ribs would break.

"Tu es un garçon stupide, je ne te laisserai plus jamais de mes yeux! Savez-vous combien j'étais inquiet? Comment avez-vous fini ici? Qu'est-il arrivé à votre cheville? Pourquoi pleures-tu? Avez-vous besoin que je vous porte-"

"Spy, I'm fine! Lemme go!" Scout tried to pull away, embarrassed by this sudden display of affection from the aloof asshole. Spy let go of Scout once he realized what he was doing, and quickly turned his attention to Sniper. Scout stumbled backwards, falling into Medic's arms. "Geez, what's up with him?" He asked, dusting himself off and glaring at Spy. Medic only smiled at him. "He is just happy to see you. Zhe both of us have been vorried." He looked back over to Spy, who was now lifting Sniper off the ground as he mashed their faces together. Scout winced. "Eugh. You sure he ain't sick or nothin'?" Medic laughed, shaking his head and pulling the two-way radio out of his pocket. "Ve have found Sniper und Scout. Should ve head back?"

" _Roger that. Think y'all can walk back?_ "

"Ve should be able to. Zhe Scout has a sprained ankle, but…Scout, do you zhink you could valk for another hour or so?"

Scout shrugged. "Prob'ly."

"Zhen yes, ve vill head back soon."

" _Good. Heavy's burnin' a hole in my floor waitin' on ya. Huh?...yeah...ok...go ahead. It's my turn to make dinner anyway. Will you just sit here and keep an eye out? Alright. Later._ "

"Engineer, vhat-"

" _Doktor! Engineer has left phone with me. Gone to make dinner. You find leetle Scout?_ "

Medic smiled. "Yes, and Sniper as vell. Ve should be home soon."

" _Is good. Next time you tell me before, I will help you. Will cross desert twice as fast._ "

Medic laughed. "I'm sure. I promise to tell you next time, ok?"

" _Ok. I will wait for you by base. Make sure you are careful, da?_ "

"Alright. See you soon!" He turned off the radio and stuck it back in his pocket, smiling dreamily. It was then that he noticed Scout's look of disgust. He sighed, shaking his head. "You vill understand someday." He rubbed the boy's head, but that just made Scout scowl at him and move away. "Whatever. Let's just go." He turned to limp off on his own, but soon found Spy at his side, offering to help. Scout turned away, finding interest in a stray tumbleweed. Spy sighed. "Pourquoi ne vas-tu pas me laisser t'aider?" he mumbled. "Est-ce que ma présence vous dérangerait autant?"

"English, asshole," was all Scout could muster. He was starting to slow down, the combined stress of his ankle, the sun, lack of food, and his nervous breakdown finally getting to him. Spy tightened his grip on the boy, almost carrying him at this point. Scout tried to resist, but eventually he gave in, letting Spy carry him over the hill. He tried to take control once they'd gotten over the hill, but Spy's grip was like a vice, and Scout was so tired. After about an hour of walking, he started to struggle to keep his eyes open, and that was when Spy took matters-and Scout-into his own hands.

"Spy, what-" Scout protested, but Spy shushed him. "Sleep. I will carry you." Scout didn't have the energy to be anything but confused. First Sniper, now Spy. Did they think they were his parents? He had one, his mom, back home, and she was all he needed. He didn't need someone who would sit with him in the desert and calm him down when his thoughts became too much. He didn't need someone to teach him how to woo Ms. Pauling. He didn't need someone who would bring him a warm coat because they were worried he was cold. He didn't need someone to carry him through the desert, tucking him close to their body and making sure to put as little pressure on his ankle as possible, and he certainly didn't need Spy and Sniper to be the ones doing those things. He would do fine on his own. He had to. That was the way it had always been, ever since he was a kid. He looked after himself, after his brothers, after his ma. Nobody looked after him. Why would they? He was just some worthless street brat.

Once he'd fallen asleep, Spy looked over to Sniper. "What happened?" He asked. Sniper sighed. "'E 'ad sam sort of...mental breakdown'r samthin'. Just started cryin' and screamin' fer you ta get out of 'is 'ead."

Spy's eyebrows knitted together, and he looked to Medic, who shrugged. "I vill look him over vhen ve get back to base. Perhaps it vas some sort of hallucination?"

Spy looked back down at Scout, whose face was dark with bad dreams. _Qu'est-ce qui se passe dans votre tête?_ He thought, pulling the boy in a little closer. Perhaps Scout's angry and aggressive behaviour had been an act, intended to hide some sort of mental issue from the rest of the team? Perhaps they were a symptom? He wished Medic could give him an answer right away, or at least tell him something that would sooth his nerves. Did _she_ know about this? Did the Administrator, or Ms. Pauling? Was this a recent condition, or something he had been hiding since the very beginning? Why hadn't he noticed? Was keeping his distance only hurting the boy?

He felt Sniper's hand on his shoulder, and sighed. "He worries me."

"He worries all've us, mate."

"When he…" Spy looked down at the boy in his arms. "Did he say anything?"

"Nothin' you want to hear, Spook. I'm sorry."

"I need to know."

"You don't."

"I _want_ to know."

"You don't."

"Sniper-"

"'E said 'e was worried about bein' too much like 'is dad, since 'is dad left 'im. 'E was worried 'e'd turn out like 'is dad an' run off when sameone needed 'im the most. 'E wanted to know if 'is dad was a good person."

"...what did you tell him?"

"I told 'im the truth."

Spy's eyes went wide.

"I told 'im 'is dad was a great man who made a stupid mistake, and that 'e loves 'im and wishes 'e could go back and change things. I told 'im if 'e was half the man 'is dad is, then 'e's a better man than 'e thinks 'e is."

"...what on Earth does that mean?"

"I dunno. Sounded good though, dinnit?"

Spy nodded, smiling a little. "Thank you," he said softly.

"I can't cover for you forever, Spook."

"I know. But he hates me. To tell him now…"

Sniper sighed. "I'm not sayin' ya 'ave to tell 'im now. But...soon. Before samthin' like this 'appens again."

#

 _Useless._

 _Stupid._

 _Making your mother worry._

 _Your father would be ashamed of you, if he hadn't run off._

 _The rest of the team hates you._

 _It would be better if you had died out there._

 _They keep protecting you because they feel sorry for you._

 _They don't care about you._

 _Useless street trash._

 _Your mother's a whore._

 _Deserter._

 _Who do you think you are?_

 _You're just like him._

 _Coward._

 _Liar._

 _Disrespectful._

 _Irresponsible._

 _He'd be ashamed to have a son like you._

 _He wouldn't want you anyway._

 _He'd kill you if he got the chance._

 _You could never hope to be like him._

 _Just die already._

 _#_

Scout shot up, looking around. He was no longer in Spy's arms, but was lying on a hard cot in Medic's room. The Medi-Gun was pointed down at him, and his ankle felt a lot better. He noticed the tray of food on a table next to him, but didn't feel like eating anything at the moment. He closed his eyes, wiping tears off his face. He felt sick to his stomach. It felt like his mind was screaming at him. His hands went up to his temples, massaging them gently as a sob wracked through his body. He would much rather have done this in his room, where he knew nobody else could see him. What if Medic or one of the others walked in and saw him crying? He'd never get over it. They'd never let him live it down. He needed to get out of here, needed to get somewhere where he could be alone. When he'd properly surveyed the room and assumed he was alone, he climbed off of the cot, moving for the door. He stopped when he saw it was locked, and that the blinds were closed. All the exits to the room were locked, and any windows were obscured. It was as if Medic had known he would need space to be alone, and had provided him with such a space. The silence calmed Scout down a little, and he sat back down on the cot, looking over at the tray of food with curiosity. It must have been Engie's turn to make dinner last night, because the food in front of him was obviously an attempt at biscuits and gravy with what little rations they had. Engie's dinners were always Scout's favourites. They always reminded him of home. Despite his shaking hands and turning stomach, he forced himself to eat. Food would calm him down and make him feel better. That was what he did when he broke down like this back home, he are something warm. He had the metabolism for such a habit, and it was better than starving himself out of stress. He knew people who hurt themselves out of depression, and he'd done that a few times in his teens, but he hadn't done it since joining Team Fortress. He still had scars on his wrists, however, which was why he wore the bandages.

He couldn't ignore the voices forever. They were still screaming swears and insults at him. He'd learned to put up with them over the years, but now, when he was unfocused and vulnerable, they made his hands start floating over to the table where Medic had left his tools. His shaking left hand picked up a scalpel, his eyes staring at the way the blade reflected the light in the room. His right hand focused on unwrapping the bandages on his left wrist, and then the scalpel was back on his right, hovering a few centimeters over his skin, his eyes closing in preparation-

"STOP!"

He dropped the scalpel, eyes snapping open with shock. Spy was standing a foot in front of him, his own eyes wide with fear. Scout's bottom lip trembled as he started to come back to his senses. He was about to cut himself. Again. After being clean for so long. Over what? Having a breakdown and hallucinating? After crying in front of Sniper? After having a bad dream? Nothing had happened in the last 24 hours that justified him grabbing that scalpel. What was he thinking?

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again Spy was nowhere to be seen. _Another hallucination?_ He thought, walking back to the cot and sitting down, putting his head in his hands.

"Why would you do that?" A voice asked. Scout looked up to see...himself. Another RED Scout was standing in front of him, looking at him with worried eyes.

"I don't know," Scout said, assuming he was looking at another hallucination. "I don't know," he repeated, almost at a whisper. "I don't know," he breathed, closing his eyes again.

"What's da matter with you? You're fine. Sure, maybe Snipes saw you cryin', but he'll fuhgeddaboudit in a day'r two. Dere ain't nothin' for you to hurt ya'self over."

"I know."

"So why da long face?"

"I can't...I can't do it anymore...I need him outta my head...I mean, look at me. I'm sittin' here, talkin' to myself. I ain't...I ain't _right_. I ain't normal."

"Compared to da rest'a dose guys out dere? You're probably da most normal outta all'a dem."

"But dey don't talk to demselves."

"Medic talks ta birds. Heavy talks to his gun. Sol's got a row'a heads he rants at."

"Yeah, but-"

"But nothin'. You gotta stop thinkin' about it like dat. You ain't useless, or stupid, or cowardly or irresponsible like you think you are. So stop wit' all dat 'woe is me' _bullshit_ and start thinkin' about other things."

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Baseball. Ms. Pauling. Bein' da best goddamn Scout in dis dustbowl. Literally anythin' else."

Scout sighed. Thinking about Ms. Pauling did calm him down a little when he was feeling particularly lonely. She always reminded him of what he was fighting for; hell, she _was_ what he was fighting for. He could imagine thinking about her to snap him out of his funk.

"Ok. Pauling. I can do dat."

"Good. Now let's get outta here."

"Medic locked da doors."

"Here." The other Scout pulled a key out of his pocket and tossed it into the air. Scout caught it, amazed. "How…" He looked down at the key in his hands. "How did you…"

When he looked back up, his twin was gone. Scout sighed, standing up. He grabbed the tray of food and started walking back to his room. He took one last look around the room before unlocking the door and walking out.

As soon as Scout's footsteps had headed down the hallway, Spy decloaked, letting out a deep sigh of relief. Sure, maybe he hadn't given the most perfect speech, but speeches had always been Sniper's territory. He didn't know how to uplift people, but he knew how to change their way of thinking. At least now, Scout would have something to do other than reach for a scalpel every time he was depressed. Spy leaned over, grabbing the scalpel off the floor and looking at it. He rolled up his own sleeve, revealing old, almost unnoticeable scars that ran vertically down his wrists. He had gotten those particular marks from a botched mission, where he had carved into his flesh with a rusty nail in his prison in an attempt to...escape. All that had earned him was a trip to the infirmary and five rounds of torture once he had gotten over the infection. He had been in a bad place back then, worse than the one Scout was in now, but those scars...they made Spy sick to his stomach. The thought that Scout, the lively, obnoxiously excitable baby of the team, could find himself in a situation where he thought self-harm was the answer...it terrified Spy. The only thing that scared him more than losing his own life was watching Scout throw his away. There was no going back now. He couldn't distance himself anymore, not after what he had seen. Not after what he had heard Scout moaning in his sleep. He would have to get closer, even if that meant raising Scout's suspicions. He would do anything, even if it meant disguising himself as people Scout was more inclined to talk to, to keep him safe.

She was counting on him, and he couldn't let her down.

* * *

[Author's Note: (1) Scout runs at about 22.2mph, while Sniper runs at about 12.8mph.

I wanted to address some of the themes of this chapter in this fic, even though they're kind of dark and not lighthearted at all.

I was looking up the symptoms for schizophrenia while writing this chapter, and most of them apply to RED Scout as I've written him so far. I don't want to offend anybody by not writing it correctly, so I want to point out here, at the earliest opportunity, that I have no experience with writing mental illness whatsoever. Everything I write that even _points_ to mental illness is either taken from personal anxiety/experience or symptoms from a Google search of the illness. I've never had a concussion, or hypothermia, but Google can give me a list of symptoms and I can try to write those conditions as best as possible. But I do not wish to offend anyone who does have a mental illness by writing it incorrectly and not explaining myself. I'm not perfect, and I don't know everything, but if I mess up, like _really_ mess up, don't be afraid to PM me and let me know. I would never dream of hurting anybody by writing their mental illness in my fic in a way that hurts them. Love you. 3

Next fic is just cute kissing stuff. Literally. Just all the pairs kissing in their different ways. I think we all deserve the happy break.]


	20. Kiss Kiss Fall in Love (All the ships)

"Great job today, Py," Engie said, patting them on the back. They smiled under the mask. The rest of the team was in good spirits today. They had gotten a winning streak today, and it was Friday, which meant rest and relaxation for the next two days. Spy and Sniper were in charge of cooking dinner that night, so they and Engie went to their room to wait for the dinner bell. They pulled off their mask, smiling at Engie with grey-blue eyes that were close to his colour. As they sat on the bed next to him, he ran a hand through their shoulder-length black hair, admiring the silky texture. They watched as he moved his goggles up to his head, rubbing the marks on his face that they had left behind. When he caught their gaze, they leaned forward, kissing him on the nose. He blushed, laughing at their silliness. They were so adorable it hurt. He hugged them, kissing their cheekbone. They made a noise-a giggle?-and planted another kiss on his head. "Oh, so it's like that, huh?" he chuckled, grabbing their chin and planting his lips on it. They smiled devilishly and leaned forward, their lips aiming for his. He moved at the last second, however, and they ended up kissing his eyelid. They pulled back, staring at them in confusion, and he put a thumb on their lips. There was something in his eyes that gave them pause, but they couldn't quite place it. Some sort of desire? Longing? Something he had to control? Whatever it was, it made them calm down a little, and they settled for letting him kiss their eyelid back.

* * *

"Honestly, you are ze most frustrating man I have ever worked with."

"Oi'm not the one who keeps hidin' the bloody knives!"

Spy scoffed. "Zat is for your own good. You are hopeless with knives."

"Am not!"

"Just leave zis to me, and I will find you a job worthy of your skills."

Sniper rolled his eyes. "Bloody git," he muttered, shoving Spy out of the way and grabbing the kukuri off his belt. After a quick wipe down on his pants leg, he chopped the carrots with impressive skill and speed. Spy objected at first, but once Sniper had taken control, he wasn't letting go. He turned to Spy once all the ingredients were chopped, only to find the Frenchman a few inches away from him. He jumped, yelping as he stumbled backwards, just barely managing to avoid dropping the kukuri. "Wot-!"

Spy smiled at the startled Sniper, who glared back. Spy took the pause to lean forward, pecking the Australian on the lips. This further startled Sniper, who went bright red as Spy backed up, snickering. "Th-that-that ain't the way ta do it, ya damn spook!" He moved to wipe at his face, but Spy grabbed his hand, lowering his eyelids. "Zen...how would you go about it?"

Sniper took a few moments to collect himself and form a plan, muttering incoherently to himself. Suddenly, he turned, grabbing Spy and dipping him while smashing their faces together. Spy _melted_. His arms went up to wrap around Sniper and hold himself up until the taller man had finally had enough and released him. Both men were now bright red, and panting a little.

"That...that's how ya do it," Sniper said, laughing darkly. Spy gave him a look that was somewhere between glaring and admiration.

"So," Sniper said, turning back to the chopping board. "'Ow many'a these are we supposed to use?"

* * *

"Scalpel."

"Da."

"Bandages."

"Da."

"Tourniquet."

"Da."

"Zhat should be it. Anyzhing else ve need before beginning vith zhe operation?"

"Da."

Heavy leaned down, giving Medic a quick peck on the cheek. Medic nodded, almost as if he had been expecting that. Without turning to look at the larger man, Medic grabbed Heavy's hand and pressed his lips to it before realizing it from his grip. He turned back to the cadaver on his table, smiling. "Now zhen," he said, pushing his glasses further up on his face with one hand. "Let's get started."

* * *

Scout lay in bed, hands behind his head. He sighed. He had been a lot better mentally these past few weeks, and Spy and Sniper had stopped hovering around him like flies. They'd been way too concerned about him for his taste, even though he understood why they were so worried. He would have to be stronger, would have to hold everything in a lot better, if he wanted them to keep leaving him alone.

It had been a good few weeks. They'd won some games, he'd found time to apologize to BLU Scout and trade some baseball cards with him, and he'd gotten a letter from Ms. Pauling. Ok, it wasn't to _him_ , per se; it had been addressed to the whole team and he had grabbed it before the others could, only giving it to Engie once he'd spent twenty minutes trying to read the thing. It had been short and sweet, reminding them that they had a base inspection coming up soon and that new weapons were on the way, but afterwards he'd taken the letter and had studied the handwriting, trying to derive some hidden meaning out of the way Ms. Pauling looped her Ls and made her periods little bubbles. He sat up and pulled the letter out of his dresser drawer, looking over it with a smile on his face. In a moment of impulsitivity, he brought the letter to his lips and kissed it lightly, imagining it was Ms. Pauling's hand. He jumped when he heard a knock on the door, quickly trying to hide the letter before Demo opened the door.

"Dinner's ready, laddie!" The Scot shouted, sticking his head through the door frame. He smirked when he saw Scout's red face, and the crumpled letter in his hands.

"Don' worry, Scou'," he chuckled. "I won' tell anyone you've been sleepin' wif' Paulin's letter nex'ta ya." He laughed harder as Scout tensed up, realizing what he was doing to the letter and desperately trying to smooth it out.

"I wasn't-I ain't-fuck off, Demo!" Scout shrieked. Demo laughed some more, shaking his head as he left the room.

* * *

BLU Scout grinned as his Pyro walked out of the bathroom, his hair still wet from showering. Pyro stretched, showing off the muscles he had gained from carrying around a flamethrower all day. His striped pyjama pants were just a little too long for him, and no amount of rolling could keep him from walking on the hems, but he didn't mind. He climbed into bed next to Scout, grinning as he wrapped his hands around Scout's neck. Scout ran his hands down Pyro's bare chest, kissing him passionately. "It's not dat late. Wanna stay up anudda hour?"

Pyro's roaming hands told him all he needed to know.

* * *

"Zhis is…"

"Beauty-ful, ain't it?" BLU Sniper said, smiling. His Medic was sitting next to him on top of his van, and the two of them were looking out at the stars. Sniper had leant Medic his vest to help combat the cold night, but Medic couldn't help but notice the way Sniper would shiver slightly every time the wind blew by them. He scooted closer to the Australian, quietly wrapping his arm around the other man's shoulders. Sniper started at first, but quickly relaxed, smiling as he cuddled against his Medic. He looked up as the older man, who looked back at him, understanding what the twinkle in his eyes meant. The two of them kissed, softly and quietly, surrounded by nothing but desert and the stars.

* * *

"DEMOMAN!"

"Wot...Sol...I were tryin' ta sleep…"

"DEMO THERE IS AN EMERGENCY!"

"Can it wai'? It's three in tha mornin'..."

BLU Soldier grabbed his Demoman's arms, dragging the Scot out of bed. He carried Demoman out of the building and a ways away from the base, dropping the man in a patch of blue flowers that seemed to glow under the moonlight. As Demoman snapped out of his tired stupor, his eye widened, amazed at the beautiful foliage.

"Sol...this is…"

"YES."

"Then why'd you-"

Demoman's eyebrows snapped up as Soldier fell on top of him, kissing him on the cheek. Just as fast, the American jumped up and ran back to base. Demoman chuckled darkly, standing up and jumping out of the flower patch to run after his Soldier. "Aw, it's on now!"

* * *

"You have to go back in the morning, don't you?"

"Yeah." Pauling sighed. She drank the last sip of her coffee before setting the cup down on the table and taking her girlfriend's hands. "I promise I'll come see you as soon as I can, ok? This has been great. Sure, those guys in the back were a little scary, but nothing we couldn't handle, huh?"

Her girlfriend cringed slightly as she remembered the way Pauling had beaten those men half to death, smiling like she hadn't a care in the world. Pauling noticed the look, and stood up, moving across the table to look her girlfriend in the eyes.

"Look. I know that was scary, but I deal with stuff like that all the time. Don't worry about it. If you ever need anything, just call me, ok? I'll be right over."

"But your boss-"

"What the Administrator knows won't hurt her. And even if she does know, I doubt she'll care. As long as I get my jobs done, she's happy."

"Then I suppose...it does make me feel better, to know I can call you at any time. But, please...do not trouble yourself. Only come to see me if it will not get you in trouble. I do not wish to bother you."

"J," Pauling sighed, hugging her girlfriend. "You've never bothered me. You never will. You matter to me. You've _always_ mattered to me, more than my job, more than my boss...more than my life. I can, would, and absolutely will do anything for you. Don't you ever feel like you're a bother, because you're not. If you've put up with me for this long, you get the right to call, text, or bug me whenever you want. OK?"

Her girlfriend smiled. "Alright. Thank you."

Pauling straightened and started walking towards the door of the empty cafe. She was almost to the door when she heard the quick click of heels behind her. "Wait!"

She turned around. "Huh?"

Her girlfriend blushed. "If I may...before you go...would you...um...that is, if it would be right for me to ask this of you…"

Pauling smiled, pressing her finger to her girlfriend's lips. She replaced them with her own lips a few seconds later, smiling when she stepped back. Her girlfriend nodded. "Yes, that was...I liked that."

Pauling giggled, giving her girlfriend one last hug. "I'll call you! I promise!"

And with that, she walked out the door, leaving her girlfriend to swoon.

* * *

[Author's Note: I don't really have much to say about this one, other than I nearly died of writer's block on the DemoSol one. Also, I wanna write some more Pauling stuff but if I have to write "her girlfriend" one more time I'm going to scream.

I played Gorge for the first time yesterday, and it seems like a really good place for some sort of expositional climax, but I have no idea how to get the team there. Also I've got a couple of ideas but the rest of the team have to find out about Pyro before they can happen. Whether I do it lazily or whether I drag it out depends on how many ideas I come up with in-between. I wanna write about Demo too...

Stay tuned!]


	21. Demo's Lightbulb

"COME'N GET ME, LADS!"

"DEMO, WAIT, NO! NONONONONONO-"

 _ **KABOOM**_

.

They couldn't breathe. They couldn't see. Dust clogged their mask holes, and their hands scrambled to pull off the mask before they suffocated. They coughed out dust, closing their eyes and feeling around with their hands, already feeling claustrophobic. It was pitch black around them, and they could hear something shuffling in the dirt close to them.

A match flared into existence.

"Pyro?"

Demo stared at them with a wide eye. Now that they had light, they could see the area they were in was a cramped pocket of air under a pile of debris. They turned their attention back to Demo, who was trying to get a closer look at their face. They pulled back, trying to hide themselves, and Demo stopped moving.

"You alrigh', Pyro?" he asked, trying to pull himself into a seated position. He bonked his head on a piece of wood, swearing as he lay back down. "S'pose tha's wha' I get fer firin' off tha wrong charges." He sighed. He stared up at the ceiling, closing his eye. "Migh' as well get some shut-eye. We'll be 'ere awhile, I 'spect'."

Pyro nodded, lying down in the dirt. They closed their eyes just before the match burned out and they were plunged into darkness yet again. They could hear noise just outside their pile of debris, but couldn't make it out. It sounded like usual battle screaming, and mercifully it stayed that way.

When they woke up again, Demo had found a small piece of wood and had set it on fire. They went to it like a moth, forgetting that they didn't have their mask on. When they heard Demo gasp, however, they drew back into the darkness as quickly as possible.

"Pyro...yer a-"

They shook their head vigorously. He stared at them, confused. He had seen a man's face silhouetted in the firelight, he had seen their short blond hair and brown eyes. But why were they-he?-shaking their head?

"Whaddaya mean no?" He asked. They shook their head again. They were never going to be able to explain it to him like this. They put their face in their hands, wincing as they rubbed dust into their eyes.

"Don't cry, Pyro," Demo said, mistaking their tears for sadness. They tried to gesture to him, to show him he was mistaken, but he pulled himself towards them, wincing as he pulled on his ankle, which was stuck under a metal beam. "I'll keep yer secre'. Dunno why you'd feel like you'd 'ave ter keep i' a secre', bu' I'll do wo'I can ter 'elp ya. I trus' ya, Pyro. I'll 'elp ya figure i' ou'."

They smiled at him, wiping their tears away as best as possible. They crawled past the fire, hugging him tightly. He smiled. "There ya go." He patted them on the back, and they lay down next to him, as close to the fire as possible. Just knowing that they weren't alone made them feel a little better about their situation.

" _Well it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe_

 _Ifin' you don't know by now…_ "

They turned. Demo was singing to himself, trying to fill the silence with some sort of sound. They smiled, trying to get a handle on the tune.

" _An' it ain't no use to sit and wonder why, babe_

 _It'll never do some how…_ "

Outside of their little pocket, Soldier cocked an ear. He recognized that voice. "OVER HERE!" He barked from his place in the pile of rubble. The others rushed to his side.

" _When your rooster crows at the break a dawn_

 _Look out your window and I'll be gone_

 _You're the reason I'm trav'lin' on_

 _Don't think twice, it's all right._ "

Pyro started to hum along as Demo kept singing, until he was belting the lyrics and they were trying their best to keep up. It lifted their spirits, especially when they heard Sol's voice.

"THEY'RE IN THERE! SCOUT, THROW ME MY SHOVEL!"

Pyro felt Demo grab their head and slip something into it. He pulled his hat over their bare head just as Sol pulled a large piece of sheet metal off the top of their bubble. Demo squinted at the sudden light, but leaned over to Pyro. "Pretend yer asleep," he whispered. They nodded, going limp.

"PY!" Engineer yelled, sprinting over to where Sol stood. He looked at the hat over their face with confusion, but when Demo met his gaze and nodded, he nodded back. So Demo had seen. He grabbed the discarded gas mask off the ground, frowning at the dust clogging the filters. He stuck it in his pocket, stepping down into the bubble to lift Pyro into his arms. They tried not to coo too loudly as he held their body against his own, burying their face into his shoulder. He carried them off the battlefield and back to base, not saying a word.

Once they were safely back in Engie's room, showered and in a clean pair of pyjamas, Engie explained what happened. One of Demo's stickybombs had gone rogue and had blown up a gas tank, exploding the building he and Pyro had been in. The entire building had collapsed, trapping the two of them inside. Battle had been called off for the day so both teams could work on cleaning up the damage. While RED team had focused on finding Demo and Pyro, the BLUs had focused on cleaning up the wreckage and making it safe for the RED team to explore. Demo had gone straight to Medic's room after they'd pulled him out so they could treat his crushed ankle, which had been trapped under debris the entire time. It had been painful, but the Medi-Gun had done its job well.

Engie had just finished telling Pyro all of this when there was a knock on the door. "I's me," Demo's voice rang out. Engie looked to Pyro, who nodded. Engie opened the door, and Demo stumbled in, nodding to Engie. "Feelin' better, Pyro?" he asked. They nodded, pointing to him. He smiled. "Yeah. Doc fixed me righ' up." He wiggled his ankles as if to demonstrate, smiling when they started giggling.

"So," he said, turning to Engie. "Are you goin' ta explain wha's goin' on 'ere?" Engie sighed. "I guess I might as well, huh?" He pulled out his desk chair, gesturing for Demo to take a seat.

Over the next few minutes, Engie told Demo everything he knew about Pyro, with the mumbling merc popping in every so often with a sketched out visual aide. The Scotsman took it surprisingly well, nodding and conveying his understanding every few seconds. When Engie had finished his explanation, Demo turned to Pyro with a look of pity in his eyes.

"If there's anythin' I can do fer you, Pyro, lemme know. Tha way I see't, We've go' ta stick tagether if we're goin' ta survive ou' 'ere. An' tha' means takin' care've each other. There'd be no sense goin' out there, blowin' things up if I dinnae 'ave a Pyro at me back." He smiled, and Pyro returned the grin. Demo stood up, stretching. "Medic's makin' dinner tonigh'. 'E migh' bring't 'ere fer ya if you ask 'im. I'm goin' ta go ea'." He waved out a quick goodbye before leaving the room. Engie sighed again, sitting down in the chair Demo had just been occupying. "Medic, Scout, and now Demo. Soon enough the whole damn base'll know about you."

Pyro bashfully sketched out a drawing of Spy, holding it up. Engie groaned. "Spy too? I thought you wanted to keep this a secret, Py."

They shrugged. They had wanted to keep their fluctuating physicality a secret, and still kind of did, but a few people knowing wasn't too bad. They had been terrified that as soon as Engie found out, he would call them a monster, out them to the entire team, and get them kicked out, but he- _everyone_ -had been nice about it. Would it really be so bad for everyone to know? It would make things a lot easier, and they wouldn't have to worry about wearing their suit all the time, but...what if the Administrator found out? What if the BLUs found out and used it against them? What if the other mercs started to wonder why they wouldn't talk? What if they actually ended up in _worse_ relations with their team once they no longer had an excuse for silence? They didn't know how they wanted to move ahead.

Pyro's silence just irritated Engie more. Though he didn't want to admit it, he was a little possessive of Pyro. He liked being the only one who knew their secret. But it would probably be better if everyone knew, and they couldn't hide it forever. He was stuck between letting Py decide for themselves and giving his own advice.

"Py-" he said, trying to think of something to say, but at that very moment Medic opened the door, holding two plates of food and looking Pyro over with concern.

"They're doin' better," Engineer said before Medic could ask. The German nodded, setting the food down on Engie's desk. "Good. I vas vorried all of zhe dust vould be harmful to zheir respiratory system."

"Breathin' just fine. Right, Py?"

Pyro nodded. They had somehow managed not to breathe in an absurd amount of dust while they had been trapped under the rubble. It had been hell washing dust out of their hair, but they had managed.

"Good. Make sure you get lots of rest, okay? Ve do not want you falling asleep out zhere, ja?" He chuckled to himself, waving his farewell before popping back out of the room as fast as he had popped in.

Pyro hopped off the bed, picking up one of the plates of food and eating it while standing up. They didn't want to make a mess in the bed. Once they had started eating, Engie realized how hungry he was. Neither of them had eaten lunch because of the accident, but at least Py had grabbed a granola bar out of the cabinet on the way out that morning. He ate quickly so that Pyro could sit down, and once they had taken the chair he leaned against the wall, eyes closed in thought. He didn't feel as mad now that he had eaten, but he still felt his thoughts drift back to Pyro. Whether they told everybody or not, they needed to decide soon. At the rate things were going, the rest of the base was going to find out about them sooner or later. It wouldn't hurt for him to get used to the idea of not being the only one who kept Pyro's secret.

He felt Pyro tug on his shirt sleeve, and opened his eyes, blinking off the sleep that had crept in on him while he had been thinking. Pyro had stacked the empty plates up on the desk and had grabbed their drawing pad. They held it up, and Engie saw a cartoonish angry face on it, next to a question mark.

"I ain't mad at you, Py," Engie said, smiling reassuringly. "I could never be mad at you. I'm just...thinkin'. About what I said earlier."

They tensed up a little as he turned, kneeling down next to them. He took their hands in his, staring up at them with a sincere look in his eyes.

"Py, whatever you decide is fine with me. As much as I like bein' your secret-keeper, I'll be ok if you decide you wanna tell the others about...yourself. But you gotta figure it out soon, ok? Sooner or later, everyone'll know anyway, the way things're goin'. I just want to make sure you get enough time to make your own decision on this. Ok?"

They smiled, nodded. They hugged him, and he stood up, lifting them into the air. They giggled, kissing him on the top of his head. "Silly," he mumbled, smiling as he carried them over to the bed. They climbed in and scooted over so he could slide in next to them. They pulled one of his arms over them, burying themselves into his chest.

"Were you scared?" he said softly, a little above a whisper. He felt them nod, and pulled them in closer. "So was I. When you didn't come back in respawn, I thought...I thought you were trapped down there, in pain but still alive. It terrified me, Py, not knowin' you were safe. Wonderin' if you were hurtin', hittin' myself because I wasn't fast enough to help you. I don't...I don't want to see you hurtin' in a way where I can't help ya. That's what scares me the most."

Engineer was not an emotional man. He didn't talk about his fears or feelings often. It was too dangerous, and not vital to the job. But Dell Conagher was scared. Scared that something was going to happen to Pyro. Scared that there would always be something he wouldn't be able to fix, something they couldn't explain to him. Scared that he would lose the person closest to him, both physically and romantically. Dell Conagher just wanted to bury the little flame bug in his arms and never let go. But Engineer knew that he could never have them all to himself. For their own good, he would have to let them make their own decisions and reveal themselves to whomever they chose. Jealousy was an unfamiliar emotion, but Dell could handle it. If Engineer was going to keep Pyro safe, Dell would have to keep himself in check.

Pyro rested their head against Engie's chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was a calming rhythm that lulled them to sleep easily. They weren't kept awake with thoughts of what tomorrow would bring. Truthfully, they were exhausted from stress, and looked forward to getting a full 8 hours. They stayed conscious long enough to make sure Engie was also falling asleep, and then they let the exhaustion overtake them and push them into darkness.

/

"Doc!"

"Scout? Vhat are you doing up?" Medic looked at the clock, rubbing his bleary eyes. Even without his glasses, he could see it was close to midnight. He sat up, yawning. He had been asleep for a good two hours before Scout had crashed through the door, yelling. He squinted at the boy, who looked like he'd just run all the way here.

"Spy made me do da dishes, wouldn't let me outta da kitchen 'til I scrubbed every one, and then I couldn't sleep, 'cause I was thinkin' about-...Oh. Sorry to wake you. I can...I can go now if ya want."

"No, no, zhat vould be foolish. Vhat is it you vanted?" Medic rubbed his eyes again, this time grabbing his glasses off the nightstand and flicking on the light. He could see Scout's look of embarrassment now, and the way the boy was awkwardly shifting from side to side, trying to avoid looking at the bed. Medic sighed. "Spit it out."

"Well, I, uh, I just, since yer a doc'n all...IwantedtoknowifPyrosalright."

"Vhat?"

"Y'know, Pyro. Are they...uh...y'know…"

Medic smiled. "Ah, I see. Yes, zhe Pyro is doing just fine. Zhey and Engineer are probably asleep by now." He raised an eyebrow at the clock, and Scout gulped. "Vhy, vas zhe zhought of zhem being hurt keeping you awake?"

"No! No! Doc, it ain't...They just weren't at dinner, 'sall. I just wanted ta know if they were ok. I saw Demo, but I didn't see them, an' I thought they might be in here...guess they ain't. I'll...uh...I'll let you sleep." Scout backed towards the door, pale as a ghost.

"Good night," Medic managed to get out before Scout all but dashed from the room. Once the boy was gone, he sighed as he realized he had left the door open. He stood up and closed the door, fighting off a laugh as he realized what had spooked Scout. Heavy was lying in bed next to him, sleeping heavily. The blanket wasn't pulled over him all the way, making it perfectly obvious that he was there. Medic smirked, walking back to the bed and pulling the blanket over Heavy's shoulders and curling up next to him. He figured he could squeeze in another four hours of sleep before he had to get up and feed his birds.

* * *

[Author's Note: Gee, it's been awhile since I had a lightbulb chapter, right? Well, get ready for one more this weekend. And then probably another one next weekend. See, I have a lot of ideas of what to do with Pyro, but most of those ideas require Pyro out of the suit for various (story-related) reasons. So I'm slowly (re: over the next few chapters) going to give everyone who doesn't have one a lightbulb story. The only one who might not get one would be Soldier, partially because he'd be totally ok with it and wouldn't care, partially because I don't know how to write him and don't want to mess up. I have stories planned for Heavy and Scout, and then I'll start working on new ideas.

The cover of _Don't Think Twice, It's Alright_ is by a band called the JSD band. I've never actually heard the song, I just did the research. I do a lot of research for these chapters. ;)

Next chapter has Sniper and a weird Pyro in it.]


	22. Sniper's Lightbulb

"VICTORY!"

The REDs cheered as they ran around, shooting the BLU team in an excited frenzy. This was their last game of the day, and they had had fun winning. They marched back to their base after the Victory Uber effects had worn off, ready for the weekend and for Spy and Heavy to make dinner. The only person who wasn't cheering was Pyro, who kept rubbing at their shoulders every few minutes. Instead of heading back to Engie's room like usual, they went out to their shack, nervously looking around for followers. Engie, of course, noticed this right away, and followed after Py as soon as he got his tools put away. When he got to the shack, he knocked on the door, hearing nothing but nervous muttering on the other side.

"Py? You alright in there?" He asked, getting the strangest case of deja vu. He cracked open the door, gasping loudly as he saw Pyro. They stood there, facing him, a look of fear on their face. They had long, wavy blond hair, sky blue eyes, and a massive pair of bird wings on their back.

Engie rushed forward, quickly examining their back. It was slightly red from where they had been rubbing it, and the wings seemed to grow out of their shoulder blades. There seemed to be no way to get them off without putting Pyro through a great deal of pain. He looked back at their face, wrapping his arms around them as he saw they were starting to cry. "Don't worry," he said, trying to be comforting. "We'll just take ya to Doc and-"

"O!" They shook their head vigorously, startling Engie with the force and volume of their voice. He looked confused, but then nodded. "No. Ok. I understand." He ran a hand through their hair. "We should get outta here for now, until we figure out what the sam hill happened to ya. Chill out here for a second, I'll be right back."

They nodded, and he left the shack, shutting the door behind him. They sat on the ground on their old mattress, their wings waving slightly as they put their head in their hands. What was happening now? Why wings? Why them? Why was this so strange and scary? Nothing had gone wrong all day. The only birds they had even seen had been hanging out around spawn, and-

No. No way. No way in hell.

Was this some sort of bizarre spawn body combination? Had a bird flown into spawn just as they came out? It couldn't be that simple, could it?

When Engie came back, they were still curled up on the mattress. Their wings hung around them like a protective coat. He opened the door and saw them, scared and sad, and sat down, hugging them. "It's ok," he soothed. "We'll figure this out. I promise. Here, put this on." He handed them a large, puffy coat with a hood. They put it on gingerly, pulling the hood up over their head. Once they were hidden, Engie lifted them over his shoulder and carried them outside. He'd pulled his truck around the building and parked it outside the shack, so putting Pyro inside and climbing in on the driver's side wasn't much of a struggle. He started the truck and drove off, fiddling with the radio. He didn't say anything for the entire ride, though he occasionally hummed along with whatever song was on the radio. Pyro tried to cheer themselves up. They would figure this out. Engie could fix things.

They eventually got to a large patch of desert that had a hill in the middle of it. Engie lifted Pyro out of the truck and carried them to the top of the hill, and they stood at the top, looking around. There was nobody as far as the eye could see. Suddenly, Engie pulled off their coat, and they stood there in their tank top and shorts, wings spread out around them. It felt good to be out in the wind. They turned to Engie, still unsure why they were there.

"Try them out," he said, gesturing to the sky. They looked at him like he was crazy. He shrugged. "Go on. Might as well see, right?"

They sighed, turning away from Engie and to the other side of the hill. They ran forward, arms out beside them as they dashed for the edge of the hill. They jumped at the last possible second, closing their eyes as they expected the ground to smack them in the face. When they did open their eyes, however, they were gliding several feet off the ground, their wings letting them ride the air. Instinctively, they flapped their wings, rising into the air while keeping their slow pace. Soon, they had gotten up into the clouds, and Engineer was just a tiny figure below them. They let out a whoop of excitement. They were _flying_! Maybe these wings weren't so bad after all? They concentrated on making a loop before swooping back down to grab Engie. He _had_ to see this.

..

Sniper frowned. He had never seen a bird that big before. Sure, Australia had its share of crazy creatures, but this bird looked almost human. It seemed dangerous, especially from the way it easily swooped down and picked up another figure - _Engineer?!_ \- lifting them into the air at incredible speeds. He lifted his rifle, aiming up the shot.

..

This was insane.

He was miles above the earth, way higher than any man should be. Engie had always hated heights, and his current situation wasn't doing him any favours. He fought off a scream as Pyro went into a loop, all but flinging him into the air. How did they even have the strength to lift him when they looked like he could snap them in two?

"Py!" he yelled, trying to get their attention, but they couldn't hear him. They were too busy having the time of their life.

Suddenly, there was a burst of blood as Pyro's chest exploded, and then the two of them were tumbling back towards the earth. Engie grabbed Py's hand, trying to calm them, but they were a cloud of blood that vanished into thin air after a few minutes, and then he was falling alone.

..

When Engie woke again, he was in the respawn room. There was a figure lying next to him on the floor, unmoving. "Py?" he said groggily, still coming to from the effects of respawn. He crawled over to the figure, relaxing a bit when he saw that they were breathing. He flipped the figure over, eyebrows furrowing when he saw their pink hair. They looked androgynous, with no defining traits that indicated their current gender, but that didn't matter to Engie as long as they were alive. He shook their shoulder, trying to wake them up. "Pyro. Pyro!" He shook them again, lifting them into his arms. Their eyes fluttered open, and they grabbed at their chest, gasping as they saw it was intact and not bleeding. They looked around, confused, and grabbed at their back. The wings were gone, almost like they had never been there in the first place. They sighed, rubbing their face before looking up at Engie, who was still holding them. He smiled at them nervously. "Are you ok, Py?"

They nodded. They pointed up at him, and he nodded. "A little tired, but I'll be alright." He lifted them up, standing and wobbling on his feet a little. He steadied himself, however, and started walking back to base, wondering how he was going to get his truck back from the middle of the desert. His wonders were answered later, when Sniper knocked on the door of his room, twirling his keys in one hand and carrying two mugs of coffee in the other. Engie sighed. "What?"

"Can Oi cam in?"

Engineer looked back to Pyro, who was sitting on the bed. They leaped under the blankets on the bed, hiding remarkably well. He turned back to Sniper. "Alright."

Their meeting was short and to the point. Sniper asked about why he'd found Engie's truck in the desert, and about the giant bird-like creature that had been with him. Engie tried to dodge the truth, but Sniper had a sharp wit.

"You can't 'oide it forever," Sniper said. "The rest've the boys ain't gonna be 'appy when they find ou' you've been doin' crazy experiments on birds."

Engie fought not to spit out his coffee. " _What?_ "

"An' 'ere Oi thought Medic were the crazy one, wiff the animals an' such. But you? Never."

"Sniper, I ain't experimentin' on birds."

"Then wot was that thing Oi shot?"

Pyro shot up out of bed, their hands over their mouth as they sneezed several times. Both Sniper and Engie jumped, whipping around to face the pink-haired figure in Engie's bed. They blushed as they looked between Sniper's look of confusion and surprise and Engie's look of fear and disappointment. "Sar," they vocalized, smiling awkwardly.

"Damn it, Py," Engie swore. Sniper's eyebrows almost left his head. " _Py_?!"

Pyro waved shyly. They climbed out of the bed and walked over to Sniper, standing in front of him. Sniper's eyes widened as he started to piece everything together.

"Holy dooly, that was _you_?"

They nodded. Sniper's ears turned red.

"Oi'm sorry, Py, Oi didn't know. Are you ok? You respawned, roight? Wot 'appened to yer wings? Were they always there? Wot are you?"

They only responded by hugging him, rubbing his back. He sighed, calming down a little. "No 'ard feelin's?" he asked once they'd pulled away. They shook their head, smiling, and he smiled back, relieved. The last thing he needed was for Pyro to be pissed at him.

"Now," he said, turning back to Engineer. "Tell me the truth. All of it."

* * *

[Author's Note: One of the things I'm going to work on in the next few chapters is having fewer emotional breakdowns on Pyro's end. Yes, someone in their situation would be stressed and possibly afraid, but making Pyro cry is beginning to become a pattern, and I already write enough emotional trauma for other characters (especially on Wattpad). I don't want every story to become "something shitty happens to Pyro, they cry, someone comforts them". It'll happen in the next chapter, because that's the way I had it planned from the beginning, but it won't be as "I'm scared and want to cry" emotional as it will be "I've just gone through a lot of physically painful things and I don't know what is going on and it hurts" emotional.

This story was inspired by Wing Fortress 2, but the winged version of Pyro is based off of an OC (not completely sure if I should call her that since she is 100% original and mine and fandomless) of mine. If you've read my Wattpad stories, you'll know she makes a cameo in one of them. Making Pyro look like my original characters is great because I know exactly what they look like.

Next story involves Heavy and Halloween. I wanted to wait until it was actually Halloween, but it's February and there's no way I could ever drag out the story that long.]


	23. Heavy's Lightbulb

"Cower, fools! Merasmus has come for your souls!"

"Pyro, get back!"

"DOKTOR!"

"Bombinomicon! Destoy them!"

.

The night had started with a small Halloween party. Hardly anyone had worn a costume, though Medic and Heavy had teamed up to do a Frankenstein-and-his-monster ensemble. Scout had found one of Pyro's spare masks and was wearing it, which they did _not_ appreciate. In return, they had stolen his baseball bat and cap, and had gone around yelling at annoying moments and pretending to swing at things. Engie had been more than happy to sit back and make sure their petty feud didn't escalate.

At some point, however, there had been a knock at the door, and five minutes later the entire team had been transported to another dimension with a wizard and a talking book about bombs. The team had hopped to it, avoiding the Wheel of Fate's wacky outcomes and working hard to fight the wizard, and it had been going well until a stray bomb had landed in front of Pyro and Medic. While Pyro had scrambled backwards, trying to get out of the range of the explosion, Heavy had rushed forward to grab Medic, successfully throwing him out of the way before the bomb had gone off, killing both of them and sending them back to the respawn room on the other side of the map. Heavy had come out just fine, but the thing that came out after him, the headless, twitching figure with fish bones sticking out of them, shrieked in agony. Heavy quickly grabbed his shotgun and fired several rounds into the monster's chest, not noticing the flash of red rubber as the thing died and vanished. Seconds later, another monster came out of the respawn, this time a bizarre Eldritch monstrosity that Heavy did not recognize. It had teeth like a bear, and a raggedy pair of bird wings, and paws like a dog. Its eyes were black as it crawled towards him, howling pitifully. Again, he shot at it, trying to end its suffering as quickly as possible.

After he killed the dog-like creature, there was a long pause where nothing happened, which gave Heavy time to get his bearings and restock on some ammo. He didn't know where Pyro was, but just wanted this whole ordeal to be over. He had never imagined that Merasmus could conjure up monsters like the ones he had just seen; monsters that seemed to have come from scary stories told to him in his childhood. He needed to get back to the others before something happened to them.

A soft wheezing from behind him made him spin around. There was no terrifying monster in front of him this time, only a shaking figure in a damaged rubber suit. He knelt down next to them, rolling them over. His shock at the monsters was nothing compared to the heart-stopping, chill-down-his-spine wave of pure fear when he looked down at the woman in his arms. She looked exactly like Zhanna. But she couldn't be. His eldest sister was still safe and sound back in Russia. So why was he looking down at her face? He quickly inspected the suit, his level of fear only rising when he saw the yellow emblem on the sleeve.

"Pyro?"

They could hear a voice far above them. Their mind swam with images and monsters and magic spells, and they struggled to stay lucid long enough to figure out who was talking to them. They heard a yelling from somewhere in their brain, telling them to wake up and stay conscious, but Engie's voice was growing more muffled and distant by the second.

Heavy could see Zha- _Pyro's_ eyes fighting not to roll backwards into their skull. He looked them over for any noticeable wounds, but saw nothing. Still, he grabbed one of the Medi-Kits he had taken from the supply cabinet and gave it to Pyro, hoping it would do something to heal them. They flinched, then gasped, their eyes shooting open as they came back into full consciousness. It was like they had lost control of their body before and now the controls had been shoved into their hands.

"Pyro?" Heavy tried again. They turned to him, eyes wide with fear and understanding. "Huh...ev..." They struggled before their body convulsed and they rolled out of Heavy's arms, vomiting blood onto the spawn room floor. Heavy stood up and backed away, keeping a careful eye on them as they released a dangerous amount of blood and a strange glowing substance from their body. The glowing substance conjealed, quickly turning into an etherial image of Merasmus.

"Fools! It is I! Merasmus! Possessor of mortal bodies! Destroyer of hearts! Crusher of souls! Come to doom you to-"

Heavy was surprised with the speed at which Pyro lept up and started punching the Meras-Ghost in the face, pushing it up against the wall of the spawn room. Though their arm went through the ghost every time, it did seem to be doing damage to it. Their knuckles started to bleed as they punched the wall, ignoring the Meras-Ghost's screaming. Their face was twisted into a mask of fury Heavy hoped he would never have to see on the real Zhanna. They kept punching until the Meras-Ghost gave its final screams and Soldier-directed insults, vanishing into thin air. They stood there, facing the wall for a good few seconds, and then they were falling backwards, vision going black as they felt Heavy catch them. He carried them away from the pool of blood, resting them on the floor as they lost consciousness. They weren't out for very long, however, and soon their eyes groggily fluttered open. They tried to sit up, but Heavy pressed a large hand on their chest, shaking his head. "Rest. You are unwell." They shook their head and tried again to sit up, but a wave of pain shot through them and they fell back down. Through the explosion, three respawns, painful transformations, puking up all that blood, and fighting the Mera-Ghost, they were literally shaking with pain and weakness. They shivered, their torn suit not giving them much of a defense against the cold floor of the respawn room. Once he was sure they weren't going to throw up again, he lifted them into his arms, sitting against the wall of the room and letting them curl up on his lap.

For years, Misha had been scared of what lay beneath Pyro's suit. It was the unknown part of it that particularly made him nervous. What kind of person could commit such atrocities on the battlefield, and yet appear so amicable back at base? But now, when the Pyro in his arms was a scared, injured girl that looked like his sister, when they had just been transformed into two horrors that had shaken him, he didn't know whether to be terrified or calmed by the things he had seen. The Pyro he saw was soft-spoken and gentle, someone who would have easily died in the gulags, so he would be justified in letting his guard down around them a little? They meant no harm to the rest of the team. But that still didn't excuse what they did with that flamethrower. That still didn't explain why they had just appeared as a couple of Eldritch monstrosities. Knowing what lay under that suit left him with more questions than it did answers. He needed to talk to them, he needed them to explain everything and set his troubled mind at ease. But he couldn't ask them of that now. Not when they were almost as pale as the floor below them. Not when they had his sister's face.

The two of them stayed in that respawn room for another ten minutes or so. Occasionally Pyro's eyes would flutter open, and they would attempt to communicate, but the strain was too much for them, and they would quickly lapse back into unconsciousness. Heavy was thinking about what to do when Scout strode in the door, covered in pumpkin gunk and cheering. "'Ey, fat-head, we won! Dat old wizard ain't no match for these guns!" He flexed, not looking directly at Heavy. His flexing gave Heavy enough time to move Pyro's body into the supply cabinet room before the boy could notice anything odd.

"Woah, what's wit' da puddle'a blood? D'ja kill someone in 'ere or somethin'?" Scout asked, pointing. Heavy stood up, looking at Scout with solemn eyes.

"Bring Doktor and Engineer here," he said curtly. Scout's eyebrows went up, and he muttered something about manners, but he ran off. Heavy went back to the supply cabinet room to pull Pyro's body into a seated position against the wall. He waited with them until Medic and Engie showed up. The Texan swore at the puddle of blood, but Medic marched over to where Heavy was standing, eyebrows raising at the barely-lucid figure leaning against the wall. Their eyes fluttered open as he approached them, kneeling down and looking them over.

"They are not hurt," Heavy said, "But they went through Respawn three times. The first two, they looked like monsters. The third, they spit blood, and there was ghost of Merasmus inside of them that they fought. They have been like this since they killed him."

"Zhat vould explain zhings," Medic muttered, waving his hand in front of Pyro's face. "Merasmus seemed much veaker after you two vent missing."

"They changed in respawn. This does not concern you?" Heavy asked. Medic shook his head.

"You saw it?" Engie asked, fighting off every instinct in his body to run to Pyro and hug them. Heavy nodded.

"They normally look different after they come out of respawn," Engie admitted, "but not like that. They're always human."

"You have seen them?" Heavy asked. Engie nodded. "That's why they wear the suit. They change so often it'd be confusing. They didn't want anybody to know."

"Sorry," Heavy said gently. He knew how much weight a secret could carry. Engie, however, sighed. "No big deal. We ain't the only ones who know. You, me, Doc, Spy, Sniper, Demo, and maybe Scout. Almost the whole damn team knows."

"Then why do they still wear suit?"

"Hell if I know," Engie said, wincing a second later at his tone. "Sorry, didn't mean for that to sound so mean. It's a hot issue right now, ok?"

Heavy nodded.

"Follow my finger," Medic said. _Which one?_ Pyro wanted to ask. They saw about three different Medics in front of them, all speaking in unison. Every time they closed their eyes, the Medics would shake them and wake them up again, asking them to "stay with me, verdammt." They tried their best to follow his finger, but they just ended up staring into space. Medic snapped his fingers in front of their face, and they tried to follow him, but their eyelids were threatening to slide closed and never reopen. They fell over, sliding down the wall, but Medic caught them, shaking his head with worry. "Ve need to get zhem back to base. I can help zhem better there."

The two other men nodded. Medic took off his lab coat and wrapped it around Pyro, hiding their face and body. Heavy lifted them into his arms, and Engie led the way back to the portal that would take them home.

.

Pyro's vision came back in a blur. They heard voices around them, talking in quiet, worried tones, but they couldn't understand a single word being said. The ceiling swirled above them, and if they had any food in their stomach they felt like it was about to beat a hasty retreat. They sat up, grateful for whoever brought over a bucket when they started retching. A warm hand rubbed their back, and they leaned against whoever was comforting them, nearly falling out of bed (?) in the process. They were quickly laid back down, and felt themselves drift off into sleep again.

Pyro continued to drift in and out of consciousness over the next several hours. They would wake up, mutter something incoherently, occasionally puke, and then lie back down and pass out. It was a worrying process that had Medic especially worried. There seemed to be no medical reason for Pyro's weakened state other than physical exhaustion, and the blackouts they were getting obviously weren't doing them any good. He had tried blood transfusions, Medi-Guns, and even a brain scan, but nothing seemed to point to any specific cause. At the rate they were throwing up, trying to feed them didn't seem like a viable option. Medic was up most of the night trying to bring their fever down, and Engie built a dispenser out of worry and boredom. Heavy did his best to keep the working men fed and watered, but he was no good at keeping up spirits.

Engie snapped awake. He had fallen asleep in a chair after finishing the dispenser, but a noise had woken him up. That noise turned out to be Pyro's voice. They were making some kind of sound, looking over at him.

"Eh...eeeeh...ennnn..."

Engie shot up, running over to the cot where Pyro lay. "Py, I'm right here."

"Ennn...jeeee..." They struggled, their breathing shallow. Engie swallowed. "It's me, Pyro. It's Engie. I'm right here, Pyro."

They smiled at him, their gaze unfocused. Their forehead was hot enough to fry an egg. Their eyes had started to glaze over, and the cold sweat that had started up a few hours ago had stopped completely.

"Pyro?" He asked, now more worried than ever. They just looked up at him with a brainless smile, making noises under their breath.

"Py, please. Look at me. Tell me everything's gonna be ok."

"Oh...kkk...kay..."

The heart rate machine began to beep loudly. Engineer's eyes widened. "Pyro?!"

"Oh...kay...ennn...jeee..." They closed their eyes.

"Pyro, look at me. Look at me, damn it! Pyro! PYRO!"

A long, continuous beep was his only reply. Their shallow breathing had stopped. Dell continued to scream, shaking the body on the cot until Heavy pulled him away, trying not to look at the body. They were not his sister. But they looked like her. For all intents and purposes, he had just watched his sister die. But he knew it was nothing compared to what Engineer was going through.

"Zheir fever vas too high," Medic whispered, swallowing a lump in his throat. "It cooked zheir brain. Zheir body...could not handle zhe stress any longer."

"You were supposed to save them..." Dell said, a hard edge to his voice. "You were supposed to heal them."

"I did all I could," Medic said, trying to be reassuring. "So did you."

"BULLSHIT!" Dell said, slamming his hands on the cot. Tears ran down his face. They were gone. They were gone because he hadn't done enough. It was all his fault. He had never even told them he loved them. He sank to the floor, head in his hands. He had never even told them he loved them.

"Engineer?" Heavy asked softly, kneeling down by the distraught Texan. Dell shook his head. "I never even told them I..." he pressed his hands to his mouth, trying to avoid a breakdown. His shoulders shook, and Heavy worried that he was going to topple over.

"They fought bravely," Heavy said. It was all he could say, really. It didn't make either of them feel better.

"Engie?" Medic said from above. Engineer ignored him. "Engie?" Medic said, more insistent this time. "What?" Engie choked, not moving. Heavy looked up, his heart stopping. "Engineer," he said. "Look."

Engie stood up, heart leaping up into his throat when he saw Pyro's body had faded away. He turned and ran out of the room, Medic and Heavy hot on his tail. He ran all the way out to base, shoving open doors and ignoring the darkness until he got to respawn.

Pyro opened their eyes. Their mind was clear again. They were in control. They felt...normal. Healthy even. A hand went up to stroke their hair, and they sat up, looking around. Had they been in respawn the entire time? The last few hours had felt like a blur, and before that felt like a nightmare. All that agony...all that fear...Just reliving the memories made them want to curl up into a ball. Instead, they stood up. No more letting pain and fear control them. After they got back to base and got a good night's rest, they were gonna start figuring out what was going on with respawn. Engie could help them.

 _Engie!_

They remembered now. How he had rushed in with Medic, fighting off tears of concern. How he hadn't left their side all night, even when there was nothing for him to do. How they had spoken to him while lying on what they all thought was their death bed...

"Enn...jee..." they vocalized to themselves. "En...jee. En-jee." They smiled at their small victory. "En-jee. En-jee."

Engineer burst through the door of the respawn room, his eyes red with tears. "PYRO!" he yelled.

"ENGIE!" They yelled back, running for him. He caught them in a crushing embrace, and the two of them sank to the floor. He hugged them so tightly they almost couldn't breathe. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought you were dead, Py. I really did," Engie blubbered. Pyro realized he had been crying, and then they realized they were crying, too. They squeezed him tightly. "Okay?"

"No," he sniffed. "I'm not. I really thought you were gone, Py. I thought I'd never get to say..." he pulled back, grinning shakily as he looked into their deep green eyes.

"I thought I'd never get to say that _I love you, Pyro._ "

They smiled at him, pointing to themselves, then making a heart with their hands, then pointing at him, then holding up two fingers. _I love you, too._

Dell could hold himself back no longer. He grabbed Pyro and kissed them square on the lips, wrapping his arms around them. He never wanted to let go. He had been fighting himself on this for too long. He had spent too much time debating whether he loved them or not, whether this was right. But as he ran his hands down Pyro's back, and they wrapped their arms around his neck, the only word that coursed through his mind was _right_. This was _right_.

Behind them, Medic felt Heavy's hand wrap around his own. The Russian had turned away, trying to hide his own tears. It was a beautiful moment.

Eventually, Engineer pulled away, his heart melting when he saw Pyro smiling at him. "Engie," they whispered, like it was some sort of secret code. He smiled. "Yeah?"

"Okay?"

"Better than ever."

"Okay."

Medic cleared his throat. "As much as I hate to break zhis up," he said regretfully, "it is quite late. I'm sure ve could all do vith some proper sleep."

Engie and Pyro blushed, but nodded to each other before standing up. They held hands all the way back to their room, where Pyro took off what was left of their suit and put on their pyjamas. Engie actually changed into his pyjamas for once, and when he climbed into bed Pyro was waiting for him. "Engie!" They squawked, showing off their new vocabulary word. Engie chuckled. "You wanna know a secret?" He asked, leaning in close. They nodded, wide-eyed. "My real name is Dell," he whispered. They closed their eyes, thinking about the syllables in the word. They let out a breath of air, concentrating and clearing their throat.

"Duh...deh...ull. Deh...ull. Deh-ull. Deh-ull. Dell. Dell!" They turned to him, their eyes sparkling, their copper hair flying around them like a halo. He smiled. "That's right." They smiled widely. "Dell! Engie, Dell. Okay." Their eyebrows furrowed. "Dell? Okay? Engie, okay?"

"When we're around the others, call me Engie. When we're alone, Dell is just fine."

"Dell. Okay." They smiled again, kissing him on the cheek. "What was that for?" Dell asked playfully. Pyro pointed to him, then made a heart, then pointed to themselves. _You love me._

"Yeah, what about it?" He asked, a little confused. They made another series of hand gestures that he couldn't interpret, and he waved them down. "Slow down."

They thought about it, then pointed to themselves.

"You."

They made a heart.

"Love."

They paused, then shook their head, moving on to the next word. They pointed to Dell.

"Me."

They made another heart.

"Love."

They pointed to themselves again."

"You. You...love me love you? Wait...oh! You love that I love you?"

They nodded, smiling. They rewarded him with another kiss on the cheek. He laughed. "I'll get you back for that."

Ten minutes and several traded kisses later, Pyro yawned. It was really late. "Me too," Dell agreed. He turned down the lamp next to him, wrapping his arms around Pyro.

" _I'll get the blanket from the bedroom_

 _And we'll go walkin' once again_

 _To that spot down by the river_

 _Where our sweet love first began_

 _Just because we love each other_

 _Don't mean we can't slip around_

 _So let's walk out through the moonlight_

 _And lay the blanket on the ground_."

* * *

[Author's Note: God, this feels like a good ending. Seriously. If I wanted to end the fic here, I probably could. But I don't think I will. I don't even think I'll take a break from writing this to write something else, even though I've got another RP/Fic in development. I'll keep writing this on the side (or in the front, depending on how often I get to write the RP/Fic.

However, you can consider this the end of an arc. An arc of Engie being unsure of their feelings toward Pyro. An arc of Pyro letting fear and limitations control them. Will everything be solved after this chapter? Hell no. In fact, this chapter is only a stepping stone for a bigger plot point. But this chapter ended so well that I'd like to consider it the conclusion to something. Maybe the end of a prelude, or a chapter in the rough timeline I've got going here. But it feels about as final as the most recent episode of Sherlock, especially since neither ending completely filled in all the holes.

I was going to save this for next Saturday (2/11/17), but I don't think that's entirely fair since I wrote this weekend's chapters over the course of about two days and I wrote this chapter over the course of several hours on Sunday (2/5/17). I have this done now, so I'll post it now, and next Saturday I'll have two chapters written that are a little lighter and happier. Engie and Pyro going grocery shopping will probably be one of them, since I've been sitting on that idea for awhile.

Stay tuned!]


	24. Pyro and Scout go to Kroger

Pyro looked over the long grocery list sitting in their lap. Usually, the team got all their supplies from Ms. Pauling, who would truck in a huge supply once a month. However, today they and Engineer had been asked to go on a quick grocery trip. Medic had started writing the list, and Spy snuck some items on to it, prompting Scout to add his own long list of luxuries. Pretty soon, the whole team had added on an item or two, and eventually Engie had to shut down the list writing and start crossing off items they had no way of getting, like Soldier's raccoon feed or Scout's fifty sets of baseball cards. "This is a grocery list, not a letter to Santa Claus," Engie had scolded, causing the boy to roll his eyes. He had tried to get Engie to let him come shopping with them, but the Texan had staunchly refused. It was only Pyro's gentle insistence (and their nonverbal explaining that he needed to get out of the base and run around for awhile) that swayed Engie's mind.

He still made Scout ride in the back of the truck, though.

Pyro sat in the passenger's seat, wearing an outfit they had partially stolen out of Scout's laundry pile. They looked a little like him today, but with black hair instead of blond, and they had commandeered a pair of Scout's pants to combine with their wife-beater. The outfit complimented them well, and Engie couldn't help but smile as he climbed into the truck next to them. "Ready?" He asked. "Okay!" they nodded, and he started up the truck, turning up the radio.

Scout leaned his head against the back window of the truck, settling in for the ride. He'd been feeling awfully cramped since fighting Merasmus. He hadn't been outside the base in awhile, and was super eager to get out and stretch his legs, so to speak. Plus, maybe he'd pick up some chicks at the store. That was always a good hope. He hadn't heard from Ms. Pauling in forever, and it worried him a little. He hoped she wasn't overworking herself. He still felt bad for wasting her one day off last year, and was frankly horrified she got so small of a break. Sure, he was fighting for his life day in and day out, but being forced to sit in a desk (which was what he assumed Ms. Pauling did) for 364 days of the year? He'd go stir crazy. Plus, if she was so busy, that meant he'd never get to go out with her. He figured it would make it better when they did go out, though. That made him smile.

Eventually they got to the store, and Scout hopped out of the truck, stretching. Pyro ran off to look for a basket, and Engie focused on locking up the truck. After talking Pyro out of trying to fit into the baby seat of the basket, Scout offered to push it around, which his teammates obliged. With Engie leading the way, the three of them walked into the store. It wasn't particularly large, being a small-town grocery in the middle of nowhere, but it was big enough for Engie to warn Pyro not to get lost. The firebug was running around, looking at everything with excitement. While they were busy looking around, Engie pulled the grocery list out of his pocket. "Okay," he said, calling Pyro back over to the cart. "Let's start with the dry stuff, then move on to the refrigerators."

The three of them spent the next few hours walking around, grabbing items from the list and even getting a few extra things. Pyro was inquisitive, looking and poking at everything new or interesting. It was like watching a small child run around. Scout, for his part, stayed with the basket, though he did get distracted by a few girls here and there. Engie enjoyed watching Pyro's face light up whenever they saw something cool, and smiled at the look of adoration they gave him when he explained something. They still didn't speak much besides "Engie" and "Okay", but they made these little _sounds_ that were just so adorable they made him want to scream. About twice he had lost control of himself and had planted a kiss on their cheek, prompting Scout to roll his eyes and pretend to hurl. Scout had been glad to get out of the base and away from Sniper and Spy, but being trapped with these two love birds was gonna drive him crazy. He was already feeling bad enough about Ms. Pauling without having a different relationship shoved in his face. When he saw how happy Pyro looked, however, he decided he could deal with it. He didn't want to make them cry again. He'd actually been looking for ways to make Pyro feel better after they'd almost died. The whole group had heard about what had happened to Pyro while they were fighting Merasmus. There had really been no point in hiding it. Initially, the team had been worried that Soldier would react negatively to finding out about Pyro's fluid physicality, but when they explained it to him he just scoffed and told them that as long as Pyro could "burn those sons-of-bitches to kingdom come", they were fine with him. Now that everybody knew, Pyro had been more comfortable moving around without their suit, and while it had been confusing at first, the team had learned to deal with it. They'd stopped treating Pyro like some mysterious freak and had started treating them like a person, albeit a child-like one. Contrary to Engie's previous fears, his relationship with Pyro had only become stronger since they'd officially told everyone about their true "form". Now that they were more comfortable being out and about without their suit, he could be intimate whenever he wanted without worrying if anyone else saw. Even now, he and Pyro were holding hands as they walked past the frozen food, and he wasn't looking over his shoulder for the other mercs. It was almost normal.

They eventually got to the aisle with all the ice cream in it, and here Engie let Pyro have free reign over decision-making. They carefully looked at the selection, grabbing flavours that would satisfy multiple people. Heavy and Scout liked chocolate, Spy, Medic, and Demo liked French vanilla, Soldier and Sniper liked mint, and Engie liked butter pecan. Pyro grabbed a smaller carton of cookie dough for themselves and carried the entire load over to the basket. Scout grinned as he saw the cartons, raising his hand for a high-five. Once Pyro's arms were empty, they returned the gesture, and Scout's smile widened. Seeing Pyro's actual face, reading their facial expressions, it was good. He still thought they were weird, but not as weird as when they'd worn the suit 24/7. They had grown on him.

They approached the check-out and Scout grabbed several packs of gum for himself. Engie's eyes flickered over the magazines. He knew most of the stories were over-exaggerated nonsense, but it was kind of fun to read some of the crazier ones. Once everything was checked out, Engie handed over the Mann Industries credit card Ms. Pauling had given the team when they first started working at Team Fortress. It was supposed to be for emergencies or for buying spare equipment, but Engie figured one grocery trip wouldn't throw off the budget too badly.

On the way out of the store, Scout put one foot up under the bottom of the basket and grinned mischievously. He hopped his free leg along the ground, pushing the cart forward as fast as it would go without falling over before pulling his leg up and riding the cart. The cart zoomed through the parking lot, and Engie yelled as it came dangerously close to hitting his truck. At the last second, however, Scout put one of his feet on the ground, pulling the cart to a gradual stop and turning it slightly so it stopped right in front of the truck bed. Pyro applauded him, and Engie breathed a sigh of relief. Scout gave a small bow, enjoying the approval. Once they'd gotten all the groceries loaded up in the truck, Scout started to squeeze his way in the back, but Pyro stopped him, gesturing for him to move to the front. "Thanks, Py," Scout said. The three of them fit comfortably well in the front of the truck, and even though Pyro had to lean on Engie a bit to make enough room for Scout, neither of them minded. Lulled to sleep by the quiet road, Engie's warm shoulder, and the excitement of the day, Pyro fell asleep. Once they were out, Scout sighed, leaning against the window.

"Somethin' on your mind?" Engie asked, looking at the boy out of the corner of his eyes. Scout shrugged. "Just tired." He closed his eyes.

"Where'd you learn to basket-ride like that?" Engie asked, trying to keep up the conversation. Scout opened his eyes and leaned back. "Home. Me'n my brothers, we'd load up our carts'n race each other to see who was fastest. Usually me." He smiled at the memories.

"You miss 'em?" Engie asked.

"Every stinkin' day," Scout replied. "But I know I'm helpin' 'em by bein' here. Everything I earn's goin' home to them 'n Ma. As long as I'm out here, runnin' for my life'n gettin' paid, she can feed my brothers."

"You really love your family, huh?" Engie asked, staring out at the road vacantly. Scout looked at him. "Whaddabout you? You got family?"

Engie shook his head. "You're young. Your parents're still around for you to go back to. Some of us ain't got that particular luxury."

"Your parents are-"

"Yeah. Since I was a kid. Some kind of freak engineerin' accident or something. I spent most of my time with my granddad. He taught me everything I know, and then some. He died a year or so before I started workin' here. I figure I've got nothin' to go back to now, might as well keep doin' the job, you know?" he sighed. "You're lucky. You got somethin' to fight for. I've got nothing to do but fight the rest of my life. And I figure it _will_ be the rest of my life. I ain't gettin' any younger out here, Scout. None of us are."

Scout let his gaze slide to the window, thinking. He had never even tried to imagine a life without Team Fortress. Sure, he'd give anything to go back and _visit_ every once in awhile, but he couldn't even _dream_ of living life without the rush of adrenaline, the whir of guns around him, and the smell of gunpowder and blood in the air that he faced every day. As much as he missed his family, he loved his job.

"Do you think we'll ever go back?" he asked. "Do you think we'll just give up and go home one day?"

Engie shook his head. "I doubt anyone out here'll ever _give up_ on anything. They want to fire us, they'll have to take us kickin' and screamin'."

Scout smirked. "Yeah."

When they got back to base, Engie, Scout, and a sleepy Pyro carried most of the groceries inside, letting a few of the other men help out with putting things away. As he grabbed the last bag out of the truck, Engie noticed his toolbox sitting on the right side of the bed, near the window. _That's funny,_ he thought. _I thought I left that in my room. Gettin' too old, Dell._ He chuckled to himself and ignored the toolbox, resolving to get it in the morning.

As soon as he was gone, Spy breathed a deep sigh of relief, taking off his disguise. The toolbox had been one of the most uncomfortable disguises he'd taken on that day, even more so than the bag of dog food, milk carton, or kind old lady at the front of the queue who insisted on paying for everything in coins. But it had been worth it to keep an eye on Scout. He was truly glad the boy was feeling better. He'd been carefully watching him, making sure he didn't slip back into the deep end, but most of the time he hadn't had to do much. Sniper had been a bit concerned when he saw how much attention Spy was devoting to watching Scout, but Spy brushed it off. He hadn't been concerned enough before, and that had almost ended with Scout hurting himself. As long as Scout never found out about his backseat helicopter parenting, everything would stay the way it had always been.

Sniper grabbed Spy's shoulder, making the Frenchman jump slightly. Sniper looked at him with concern, especially when he saw how tired the man looked.

"When's the last time you slept?" The Australian asked. Spy sighed, fighting the urge to rub his eyes. "Two days ago."

"Spook."

"Three."

"Spy!"

"Fine. Four." Spy rolled his eyes.

"Four days? Jesus, Spook!"

"I have been awake for longer periods of time before." Maybe those times were because of torture, but Sniper didn't need to know that. His nonchalant answer didn't seem to satisfy the bushman, because the next thing Spy knew he was being swept off his feet and carried out to Sniper's van. Spy struggled as much as he possibly could, but Sniper was steadfast and kept his grip on the cranky Spook. He pulled the doors of his van open with his foot, throwing Spy inside before climbing in himself. He locked the doors of the van behind him, kicking off his boots and pulling out his bedroll. Spy raised an eyebrow, smirking. "If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask."

Sniper glared at him, though his ears did go red. "S'not the plan," he said dryly.

"So you admit you wanted to sleep with me," Spy said slyly. Sniper groaned. "Wouldja just lie down already?"

Spy took his sweet time taking off his jacket, shoes, and tie, setting them gingerly across the backseat of the van. He normally preferred to sleep without his pants and shirt, but upon seeing how flustered Sniper was he figured he'd done enough damage. He lay down on the bedroll, looking up at Sniper expectantly. The Australian mumbled something about sleeping on the van seats, and Spy shook his head. "Of course you won't. You would never fit. Besides, how am I supposed to sleep without you forcing me to do so? You were ze one who brought me here. Finish ze job."

Sniper sighed, considered it, then sighed again and lay down next to Spy. "There. Now sleep, Spook."

"Kiss me first."

"Wot!"

"You heard me."

Sniper grumbled, but gave Spy a quick peck on the check.

"Again."

"Again?!"

"You honestly zink zat first one was enough?"

"Fine!" Sniper gave Spy another quick peck on the cheek.

"Again."

"Three times? I didn't know you were superstitious, Spook."

Spy smirked, impressed. So, the bushman understood. The third kiss was slower, and not as frustrated as the first two. Slowly, Spy turned until he was facing Sniper, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the van. He reached out a hand, pulling his glove off with his teeth and running his bare hand around Sniper's neck.

 _Did I leave my gum out here?_ Scout asked himself, hopping in the back of Engie's truck. They'd unpacked all the groceries and had had dinner, but Scout hadn't found the gum he'd bought for himself. A quick look around the truck bed revealed it wasn't there, but when Scout opened the front of the truck he found his gum, safe and sound. On his way back to the base, he passed by Sniper's van. Neither Sniper nor Spy had been at dinner, and he figured he might as well see what the matter was and _oh my god why is the van shaking shit shIT ABORT ABORT MISSION GET THE HELL OUT RUN RUN GO GO GOGOGOGOGO_

Scout slammed the door to his room, hardly even remembering the run from the van to his bed. He was still recovering from the shock of catching those two in the act. He felt sick. He was glad he hadn't actually seen either of the two men, or else he'd probably be spitting up his guts. Still, a deep part of him felt a little comforted by the fact that (he thought) Spy was gay. If Spy was gay, he thought, then he couldn't be his dad. That was how it worked, right? It had to be. He kicked off his clothes and climbed into bed, trying to think of something that would get the image of Sniper's van shaking like it was about to fall apart out of his head. He couldn't think of Ms. Pauling, because that would put a different image in his head that he really didn't want to see right now. He directed his thoughts to Pyro. Did they have any family back home? Anyone who knew their name or what they were supposed to look like? Maybe they were just some lab rat freak, raised by Team Fortress? Trying to figure out who they were and where they came from was the best distraction he could think of right now. He hypothesized and theorized for about half an hour, and then he realized he'd been thinking about it for half an hour straight and sighed, turning off the lights and going to sleep.

* * *

[Author's Note: I would like to start off with the fact that my grandmother on my mom's side is gay, so I know perfectly well that gay people can be in a straight relationship and have children before/despite realizing that they're gay. But Scout's young and dumb and innocent.

Oh my gosh I was so busy this week I have no idea how I got this finished. I started this Monday morning and it's midnight on Friday and this is only 2,942 words of fanfic without the AN. But I'm proud I got this finished! I'll spend tomorrow and most of Sunday working on Sunday's chapter. I think it'll be about Ms. Pauling, since I want to do a whole fic with just her and her girlfriend for Valentine's day.

The title of this comes from the fact that I was imagining the three of them wandering around in my local Kroger having a good time.

p.s. You didn't actually think I'd write/put in Knife Party slash, did you? I couldn't even write that if I wanted to. (Not just Knife Party, any slash or nsfw scenes in general.)]


	25. Valentine's Day DLC (Pauling and J)

[DISCLAIMER: The following is a rewrite of the Jaehee Kang Valentine's Day After Ending from Mystic Messenger. If you have not played that particular DLC and would like to keep it unspoilt, then it would be best for you to skip this chapter.

Also, since this is a rewrite of that scene, most of the story here is dialogue, and not in my usual (heavily expository) style. I edited a few lines here and there and added in a few of Pauling's lines, but other than that it's pretty much word-for-word.

I don't claim ownership of Mystic Messenger or Team Fortress 2, and just because I'm calling Jaehee J here doesn't mean I'm making her my own character. I'm just trying to keep this story out of complete crossover territory.]

* * *

"Here is your einspaenner and tarte." J handed Ms. Pauling a plate with two delicate pastries on it. Pauling smiled.

"Thank you. The coffee smells awesome. And wow, the tarte is so pretty. Did you make this? I can tell. And you did such a great job with the shop interior. Especially that potpourri over there. Did you make them?"

"Of course."

"You're so good with your hands. I want one for my house!" Pauling laughed. J blushed.

"I feel like I'm interrupting your day off...I thought you guys were open today. I saw some construction in front of the building. Is that why you guys are closed today?"

"Yes..." J said sadly.

"I thought so. It was strange that you guys were closing on Valentine's Day. I'm sure a lot of people visit coffee shops on days like this and you can see more profit."

"We didn't have any choice, since construction's right in front of the store...We didn't really have a chance to take a break since opening the shop, so we thought it a good opportunity for a break. Besides, there's so much dust from the construction site that even if it's over by today, we won't be able to take any customers."

"Yeah, I guess. My pants did get quite dirty on my way here." Pauling dusted off her jeans, which were still covered in dirt from the construction.

"Why aren't you in your suit today? You're not going to work?"

"Today's my day off. I worked late last weekend. You didn't have to give me this and the dessert for free..."

"I can't take your money on your day off. And if you really want to help with our sales, please bring the whole team with you next time."

Pauling laughed. The idea of bringing nine noisy mercenaries into J's beautiful cafe was ridiculous. She could imagine maybe four of them actually appreciating it, and the other five destroying the place.

"I did close all the windows so that the dust doesn't come into the shop, but I can't block all of it. I'll probably have to clean the whole place before we open again, right?"

"I'll help you clean," Pauling offered. J smiled, but then frowned again as she looked around the cafe.

"The mood lighting, the cushion covers, mini curtains...it'll take a whole day if we want to get to the glass window and outside walls too...Oh, and we have to place a new order for our beans, right?"

"I can put in the order." Pauling was pretty sure she knew how to put in an order for coffee beans.

"Oh, will you? Then I'll check our inventory again and let you know how much we have to order. We're getting through these beans much faster than I'd expected. We might have to place a larger order."

"You guys must be doing quite well. Congrats!"

"Thank you. But I think it's still too early to say how we're doing. This neighbourhood is getting another franchise coffee shop, so we can't let down our guards just yet. I also have to analyze more of our customer patterns and sales per item on the menu. We have to enjoy our work while providing something other chain stores can't, and it's not easy. I'd like to add a new item to the menu if I can...but we'll have to decide after analyzing out current menu and customer pool."

Pauling laughed. "Hmm...I can't say for sure, but I feel like your previous job experience is helping you with this shop."

"Yes, the experience of working with one of the best corporate executives...helps in many situations."

"I'm happy to hear that. I don't know much about managing a coffee shop, but please let me know if there's anything I can ever do to help." Pauling knew the Administrator wouldn't be too pleased if she took too much time off to help with J's cafe, but it was a risk she was willing to make.

"Thank you for your concern. For now, the construction is our biggest issue. All we can do is just hope that they finish as soon as possible."

Pauling glanced out the window, noticing a worker with a large hammer. "Huh? That big vase out there. I think one of the workers is trying to get rid of it?"

"Oh, oh no. I must go and talk to them."

Pauling hid a smile as J raced outside to save her precious pottery. Today wasn't _really_ her day off, but she'd convinced the Administrator that she had a job in this area so she could visit her girlfriend on Valentine's day. She pulled out her phone, making sure the old woman hadn't left any messages demanding for her to come back to base.

"I could never let go of my phone during the holidays either."

Pauling jumped as J walked back into the cafe, smiling. Pauling smoothed her hair back down, a thought coming to her.

"Do you miss that time?"

"Not at all...I don't think I've ever missed my old job since we started this shop. It's just that I can see where you're ending up...So, for today, we'll have to look through our sales, test the new cake recipe...we should check our inventory and place a new order today if we can. It's our day off, but we still have so much work to do."

"We'll tackle it one by one together!"

"Yes, I'm sure it'll be nothing if we work on it together. I feel ike I'm in such good hands now, to be with you on a day off...Then should we discuss our sales first? I've analyzed our sale numbers from opening toll last week, ad the coffee items have been increasingly successful. So most of our coffees are well-received. I'd still like to add something. What can we add?"

"How about latte art?"

"Oh, latte art! That's a good idea! I've been wanting to learn anyways. I'm sure our customers will enjoy that. We've started getting regulars, and several people took photos of our interior. The dessert items have been more popular than I'd' expected, so I'm thinking of adding to the menu...I'm not sure how it'll work out though. This new item we've been trying to develop hasn't been doing well..."

"You never know until you try. Let's try first."

"Yes, you never know...you're right."

The two of them walked into the kitchen, and J started to grab cooking items. Pauling wasn't too good of a cook, but she knew how to follow directions, and J was good at giving them.

"Something was missing in our last ganache cake recipe, so I switched up the mixture. I hope it's better than last time. I'll take out the measuring cups and the hand mixer. Could you please get the milk and eggs from the fridge?"

"Is there anything else you need?"

"It's fine. I'm closer, so I'll take it out. Chocolate, butter, heavy cream...and this ad that. That's all of it. I hope this is better than last time. First, I need to preheat the oven, get my parchment paper...I'll sift the flower. Could you please mix the eggs, oil, milk, and sugar?"

"On it," Pauling said, and started mixing the ingredients according to the recipe. She looked up when she heard J laughing.

"Haha...you look pretty working so hard. Our test item for today will be born under your care."

Twenty minutes later, they had gotten the cake in the oven and had gone back to sitting on one of the couches in the cafe.

"Whew, it's in the oven...and now all we can do is wait for it to bake. I don't know how many times we've done this...I hope it comes out well this time..."

"Let's take a break while we wait," Pauling said.

"Oh, yes. We should get something to drink while we wait. I'm getting coffee. How about you?"

"Tea would be great," Pauling said. She didn't need any caffeine at the moment.

"Ok, I'll get it ready. Let's think about what we can do for decorations while we enjoy our drink. Usually, people use strawberries to decorate...oh my." She stopped as she reached the back shelves. "Oh no, we've run out of coffee beans. I was so preoccupied with the ones used for customers that I completely forgot about our coffee beans. I'll have to get some from storage. Hmm...perhaps I should just bring in a sackful."

"I'll go with you." Pauling stood up, and J smiled.

"Oh, will you? There are other things we need from the storage room as well. We might as well just bring them all. Anyways, we'll run out of flower soon, but our dealer hasn't reached out to me yet. They said they'd check regarding a new order, but they haven't called back..."

The two of them headed to the storage room. Pauling heard a click as they walked in, but she assumed it was just the door closing.

"This will be enough beans for a couple of days. Chocolate, baking powder, sugar...everything else is good too. Oh, my hands are tied. Could you please open the door?"

"Got it." Pauling tried to open the door, but it didn't budge. "J, the door isn't opening."

"The door isn't opening? Wait...oh no, something's stuck to the door. Something must have fell after we closed the door. "

"What's that?"

"I think it's a mop. We left it in storage so that the customers won't see it. I think that's stopping the door from opening. What can we do?"

"J, didn't you bring your phone with you?"

"Oh, I did! Why didn't I think of that? For the first ime, I'm glad that our dealers are calling late. I should call someone and ask for help right now."

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Pauling had half a mind to ask to call Bidwell, but he was probably as busy as she was supposed to be, considering the man he worked for was about twice as crazy as the Administrator.

"We're sort of stuck in our storage room right now, and a mop is blocking the door so we can't open it. ... Yes, we are fine. I'm sorry, but could you please come to the cafe and help us right now? ... Thank you. The front door is locked, so you have to come through the back door by the kitchen. ... Okay. Thank you so much." She hung up the phone, sighing. "Thank god...my friend is on his way. He's stuck in traffic, so it'll take awhile for him to come. I can't believe this is happening...I was scared for a minute there. Should we just sit down while we wait for him?"

They sat on the floor, and J leaned against Pauling. Pauling wasn't used to seeing such a display of affection.

"J, are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Oh, I'm sorry. I should have asked how you were doing first. Were you scared? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. I'm with you." Pauling smiled.

"Yes, me too. I feel fine with you here. Thank you for being by my side. I have so much on my mind just sitting still here like this."

"Maybe it's a sign that we should rest? Considering that we had to close today and we're stuck here?"

"Yes. It's important to take a break for our body and mind, but I feel like we were so bust heading forward that we forgot that's truly important. I feel like I just haven't had the time to sit down and gather my thoughts. I decided to open this cafe after a lot of consideration and research, but I've realized that reality is very different from what I've imagined. They say that the field is your best teacher. I've learned so much just by jumping into this. Our coffee sales have become consistent recently, so we are doing quite well...but dessert is a whole other issue." J sighed, and Pauling gave her a squeeze.

"We did work really hard though, didn't we?"

"We raced every single day to make our dreams a reality. No matter how competitive this field is, I believe in the effort you and I put in together. I'm...I'm so proud that this coffee shop has traces of all the things we've achieved. I wouldn't have survived in this competition without you. When I first decided to open the coffee shop, I thought to myself, _oh, if I make good coffee and sell it, people will love it._ Of course, that's not wrong, but after actually going through it...I realized that there's much more to it. I had to study a lot on how to differentiate my coffee shop from others, it's own special concept and character, and all that. I barely had time to take any breaks, but I just kept having more and more work. So...sometimes I forget that this space itself that we've created together is what's truly important."

"J..." Pauling said gently.

"I...I feel like I've been too greedy. Greedy about leaving the company and achieving a satisfactory goal doing something I like. And I also thought that I can never fail because I'm doing this with you..."

"You can't succeed without being that greedy," Pauling said.

"If your goal is material success, you do need to prioritize increasing your sales. But...the success I want is for us to be happy, you and I. I can't deny that financial wealth is very important. But I don't think that's all, so I left my job to do something I value much more. And I opened this cafe, just with pure passion. "

"J..." Pauling said again, hugging her girlfriend.

"I've already achieved my dream, my dream to work on something I like with the person I like. Each day I spend with you like this is my dreams becoming reality. I never want to forget that. "

"I'm so glad I can be with you too, J."

"Thank you...I hope that never changes. I'm going to take a step back and put in some thought so that this space becomes the place of our dreams. Let's never forget that we have to be happy, not even a single day! I feel so much better after talking about this. There's nothing to fear when I'm not alone and with you. I feel hopeful now that I've talked it through."

"This is only the beginning for us! I'm sure great things are waiting for us."

"Let's do this. You have no idea how happy I am to have met you and to work with you. Oh, and I almost forgot. Happy-"

The door rattled. Both women jumped.

"Is this the storage room? Hello? Are you guys in there?"

"He's here. Yes! We're in here!" J yelled. Pauling put a hand to her chest, sighing in relief.

"Thank god! I'll open the door right now." They heard another rattling noise. J stood up, dusting herself off. "Shall we go out together?" she asked, holding out her hand. Pauling took it, pulling herself up and not letting go.

J's friend didn't stay for too long. J thanked him for coming to their rescue, he said it was good that he was in the area, and then he left soon after. As he walked out, J turned to Pauling.

"I feel like we're forgetting something. What is it?"

Pauling's eyes widened. "Our cake!"

"Oh, right! The cake! Well, I don't smell anything burning..."

J rushed to the kitchen, and Pauling followed.

"It's not burnt...thankfully. Whew." J pulled the cake out of the oven, and Pauling smiled. It was time to decorate it, and that was an area where she excelled. Pauling had always had a hand for art and decoration, and decorating the cake didn't take her long.

"Doesn't it look pretty good with the decorations?" J said, smiling.

"I'm glad we made it."

"Yes, we were very close. It would have got burnt if we'd stayed just a bit longer. Anyways, it looks fine, so now...all we have to do is try it." J turned to the cake, a bit nervous. Pauling reached down and squeezed her hand before reaching over and cutting a piece of the cake. She scooped a bite onto a fork and held it out for J.

"You want me to try it?" J asked, smiling slightly. She leaned forward and took the cake in her mouth, thinking. "It's..."

"It's?"

"It's good! It's exactly what I was hoping for! That moist cake goes so well with the cream! Go ahead, try it! Here." She pulled a bite onto the fork and held it out for Pauling.

"Ah~"

"How is it?" J asked, expectantly. Pauling smiled. "It's good!"

"Yes, the chocolate isn't too sweet or thick. We made it, but I definitely want more. I think we can add this to our menu. Of course, we'll have to test it again to get a set recipe for this. Wow...finally, we got it right! I feel like I just recieved a surprise Valentine's Day gift."

Pauling smiled. "Since we succeeded on Valentine's Day, why don't we call this cake Valentine?"

"That's a good idea. I was so focused on finishing this cake, I completely forgot to think of a name. The first test for Valentine was a huge success." J smiled back at Pauling. "I think I'll remember this Valentine's Day for quite a while. As a wonderful day I shared with you."

Pauling stepped forward, kissing J softly. They both tasted like cake, which just made the whole experience better. When they pulled away, Pauling's eyes were glittering with tears of happiness.

"Happy Valentine's Day, J!"

"Happy Valentine's Day!" J smiled.

* * *

[Author's Note: HOO BOY I got this in at the last second, huh? I actually started typing up the dialogue on Sunday, but the VN was (and still is) really glitchy on my phone and I only got 3/4 of the way through, and then I was really busy Monday. I wanted to post this Sunday, or at least earlier than 9pm, but I really wanted to write Pauling in Jaehee's scene. The two of them would make a great couple, since they're both overworked assistants with glasses, pantsuits, and crazy bosses. It's one of my favourite crack ships, and I really wish more people shipped it.

I don't know what I'll post Saturday. I've been working on an original story since yesterday, and I'm pretty involved with that right now. So either I'll pull something out of the ether on Friday, or I'll put up a post on the official One Day For Pyro Ask Blog ( .com , guys!) saying "Hey, nothing this week, but go check out my WattPad!" (also pls go check out my WattPad). Time will tell.

Stay tuned, and happy post-Valentine's-Day-candy-hunting!]


	26. Scout and the Kitten (Part 12)

Out in the middle of the desert, finding animals wasn't uncommon. Soldier had his abnormally large horde of raccoons, and it was normal for any of the mercs to stumble (sometimes literally) over the occasional lizard or roadrunner. But domestic animals, like cats and dogs, hadn't been seen in the area for years. So when Scout heard a strange _mew_ ing sound coming from behind the respawn room, he thought he was imagining things. He quickly climbed the fence that kept him from exploring too much and snuck over to the boiler, trying to keep quiet to avoid scaring off whatever was making the noise. He was about as sneaky as a rooster with a megaphone, but he managed to avoid scaring off the source of the _mew_ ing. He saw a tiny kitten curled up under the boiler, shivering as they tried to stay warm. It wasn't too terribly cold (at least, not to Scout, who was used to colder temperatures from living in the north), but the sky had been grey and cloudy all week, and Sniper had been complaining about a chill in the base lately. Scout got down on his knees, reaching a hand out for the cat to sniff. He'd seen tons of alley cats as a kid, and he knew that you had to let them come to you. The kitten booped its nose against his hand, and he fought the urge to giggle. He carefully wrapped a hand around the kitten, dragging it out from underneath the boiler and pulling it up to his chest, cradling it. It meowed at him, but he shushed it, running his hand through its fur. "It's ok, lil' guy," he said, smiling. "I'll get'cha somewhere warm."

Climbing the fence again was a little harder while cradling the kitten, but Scout managed to get over without injuring anyone. He ran back to base as fast as he could, making sure not to squish the kitten. He ran up to his room, slamming the door behind him and locking it. Once he was sure he was alone, he set the kitten down on his bed. It sat there for a few minutes before gingerly moving around, exploring the space. It crawled under his blankets, then walked over to his pillow and started kneading it with its paws. "What are you doing?" Scout asked, smiling at the cat's silly behaviour. He rubbed its head, sitting down on the bed. It jumped into his lap and started kneading his leg. "Quit!" he laughed, trying to pull the kitten off of him. It mewed at him, and he lay back on the bed, letting it climb up onto his chest and curl up into a ball. He stroked the kitten's fur, smiling to himself. "What da hell were you doin' out there, lil' guy? Dis ain't no place for a lil' guy like you." The kitten, of course, didn't answer, but it started to purr as he rubbed its head, and he took that as a sign of happiness.

A sudden knock on the door sent him bolting upright, and the cat yowled as it flew off his chest. It quickly shushed it and pulled the blanket on top of it, running to the door as he heard Engie's voice calling for him. He flung open the door, and Engie's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Scout's nervous, heavily breathing body. "You alright?" He asked. Scout nodded, using his long arms to block the doorway. "Yep. Couldn't be better. Nothin' goin' on here."

"Okaaaay. Have you seen Py? I haven't seen 'em since this morning."

"Nope. Haven't seen 'em." Scout's wide eyes and awkward posture would remind a modern reader of a certain chef from a rat-themed movie. Engie just thought he was being weird.

"What are you doing in there?" He asked, trying to push past the boy. He was hiding something, Engie knew it.

"I, uh, just, I, I was...masturbating furiously. Yeah, that's it. Just goin' at it. You don't wanna come in here."

Engie looked at him like he was crazy, but backed off. "Well...let me know if you see Pyro, ok?"

Scout nodded. "Yep!" As soon as Engie was gone, he shot back into his room, closing and locking the door again. He looked back at the bed, a yelp shooting from his mouth when he saw the kitten was gone. He tore through the room, looking for the kitten, his face paling when he realized the kitten must have gotten out when he was talking to Engie. He burst out the door, looking around the hallway before running off to his left, towards the main room. He heard Engie talking in the kitchen, and raced through the door, stopping cold when he saw Engie and Medic staring at him. Behind them, on top of the refrigerator, was the kitten, walking amongst the books and other bric-a-brac that had been left up there. While trying not to look overly suspicious (and failing miserably), Scout made his way over to the fridge under the guise of looking for a snack.

"You ok, Scout?" Engie asked, concerned at Scout's more-nervous-than-usual appearance. Scout nodded. "Yep. Just lookin' for somethin'. Nothin' crazy goin' on here." He ran his hand over the top of the fridge, looking for the cat, but found nothing. He bit his tongue as he saw the kitten jump to the cabinet next to the fridge and start walking towards whatever Medic was cooking on the stove. He jumped over to the stove, smiling awkwardly at Engie and Medic. "Gee, Doc, what'cha cookin'? Bet it's somethin' good, huh?" he forced a laugh, his eyes flicking up to where the kitten had been. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the kitten was gone, and he was sure his heart had stopped when he saw the kitten clinging to the back of Medic's jacket. Scout quickly reached out and pried the kitten from Medic's coat, drawing an odd stare from the doctor. Scout quickly put his hands behind his back, chuckling. "Dere, dere was a bug or somethin'. Got it off for ya. You're, uh, welcome!" he dashed out of the room, clutching the kitten to his chest.

"Zhere is somezhing strange going on vith zhat boy…" Medic said, shaking his head. Engie sighed. "I'm sure we'll figure it out sooner or later."

Scout locked his door and plonked the kitten down on the bed. " _Jesus fuckin' Christ_ , you nearly killed me dere! Please don't evah, _evah_ do that again. Just stay here. Please, lil' guy."

The kitten mewed at him, rubbing against his hand. He sighed. "I can't stay mad at you. C'mere." He picked up the kitten and sat down on the bed, petting it gently. "I bet you're hungry, huh? Dat's why you ran off. You just wanted some food."

The kitten mewed, and Scout sighed. "I don't even know what cats _eat_! Milk? Tuna? Prob'ly not Bonk…" he looked around his room for a trace of anything he could feed the kitten, but the idea of feeding it week-old pizza didn't sound like a good one. The kitten mewed again, and he sighed.

"Whaddaya want, lil' guy? Blood?" He held out his finger, and sure enough, the kitten started sucking on it. It didn't take any of his blood, but it was obvious it was hungry enough to think his finger might provide some sort of nourishment. His heart sunk. He'd have to go back to the kitchen to get food. Sighing, he picked up the kitten, cradling it to his chest. "Alright," he said. "Let's go get you some food." he walked over to the door, moving the kitten to one hand so he could open it. This gave the kitten the opening it needed to jump out of his grasp and speed off down the hallway. Scout swore, racing after it.

Engie picked up the rubber suit with shaking hands. He had gone down to the field to look for Pyro, and had finally found a clue in the respawn room. The suit was all that was there, with their shirt and shorts still inside it. Something had happened to Pyro's body, but Engie had no way of knowing what. He was getting more nervous by the minute. They were usually back at base as soon as he was, waiting for him in their room. It wasn't normal for them to be gone this long. Even if they had ditched their clothes and gone somewhere, they would have come to find him, right? Maybe they were back at the base. He picked up the bundle of clothes and headed back to base, hoping to find them wandering around.

Scout swore under his breath as the kitten raced towards the dining room. He could already hear the voices of people inside, waiting for dinner. A small squeak escaped his lips as he slammed against the door frame, barely missing the kitten. He stood up quickly, forcing a grin and awkwardly laughing at the rest of the team, who had snapped to attention and were now staring at him. "Hey. Just, uh, dropped my ball! I, uh, I think I see it over dere! Heh, heh, yeah."

The team continued to stare at him. Scout inched his way over to Pyro's empty chair, where the kitten was trying to figure out how to climb into it. He crouched down by the chair, wrapping his hands around the kitten and trying to pry it off of the chair leg. "Yep, just, looking for my ball. Uh-huh."

Engie walked in the room, holding Pyro's empty suit, a grim expression on his face. "Y'all, I think something happened to Pyro." The team turned to look at him, and Scout stuffed the kitten inside his shirt, wincing as it clawed his way up his chest.

"I need y'all to help me find'em. They could be anywhere in the base. They could be hurt, or scared. If you see 'em, try not to freak out. Scout, what the sweet Jesus are you doing over there?"

Everyone turned to look at Scout, who was struggling to keep the kitten inside his shirt and yelping softly as the kitten tried to scratch its way out of his shirt. At Engie's exclamation, Scout jumped, and in the rush to look innocent the kitten climbed out of his shirt and ran across the table, avoiding empty plates and fast-moving hands to jump and cling to Engie's overalls. Everyone looked from Engie, to the kitten, to Scout, who was a combination of white and red none of them had ever seen before. It was like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar, but about ten times worse.

"Are you why Scout's been actin' so weird all day?" Engie asked, wrapping his hands around the kitten and prying it off his overalls. He cradled it to his chest, sitting down. Spy laid his gun on the table, but Engie stopped him. "We ain't shootin' it, Spy. It's just a lil' thing. Ain't gonna hurt nobody."

Spy sat back in his chair, looking at the kitten with disgust. One would think he would be a cat person, having many catlike qualities himself, but he couldn't stand furry beasts of any kind. He was allergic to dogs, but he had no good memories involving cats.

The kitten mewed up at Engie, as if trying to speak. He chuckled. "What is it, lil' fella?"

"He's hungry," Scout said, gathering the courage to speak. Engie nodded. "Course. Let's get you somethin, huh?" He stood up, walking towards the fridge. "Let's see if we've got anything for ya."

The rest of the team turned to Scout, who chuckled awkwardly.

"So, where'd'ya find it?" Sniper asked.

"And what possessed you to bring such a filthy animal here?" Spy added.

"He was under the boiler next ta respawn, shakin' like a leaf," Scout said. "I couldn't just leave him."

"Of course you could," Spy said, but Medic put up a hand to stop him. "You say you found zhis cat near respawn?"

Scout nodded.

"Und Engie, zhat vas vere you found zhe Pyro's belongings, ja?"

"Yep," Engie said from the fridge.

"Perhaps zhe cat is connected to Pyro," Medic said, showing off a surprising amount of plot omnipotence. Most of the mercs scoffed, but Engie and Scout looked worried. Engie carried the kitten back to the table, sitting the mask out in front of it. The cat crawled inside the mask, meowing loudly. Demo started laughing (it was awfully cute), but quickly quieted down when he saw the serious faces of his teammates.

"Ok, meow once for yes, twice for no," Scout said, crossing the table to stand next to Engie. "Are you Py?"

Engie looked at him like he was crazy. "It's a damn kitten, Scout. It ain't gonna know what you're-"

The kitten meowed once, crawling out of the mask. Scout was pretty sure Engie stopped breathing.

"So...cat is Pyro?" Heavy asked, confused. Scout looked up and nodded. "Yeah. Pyro's a cat."

"Holy shit. Pyro's a cat!"

* * *

[Author's Note: Holy hell writer's block is a bitch. I almost thought I wouldn't get anything posted today.

Yes, this is a cliffhanger! I've never done a cliffhanger chapter before, and this seemed like a good place to do it. I'm gonna spend another hour or so writing as much of part two as I can so that I don't have to stress about writing the whole thing tomorrow morning. I've just been so busy and uninspired and it's killing me.

I think this might be developing (gasp) an actual plot! The next chapter'll be more dramatic, and then I'm going to try to wrap things up in the next week or so. As much as I like writing this fic, and as much as I'm sure you guys enjoy reading it, 25 chapters is a lot, I'm running out of ideas, and I've been sitting on the twist for this series since the beginning. It'll be good, and I'll do my best to wrap up everything. That's right. _Everything_. Maybe even the BLUs.

The link to the Tumblr for this fic broke last time, so at risk of sounding redundant, the URL is nonbinarypyronfriends. Just look for that on Tumblr and you should find it. Even after I'm done with this fic, I'll still try to keep that blog active with various headcanons and such, and I'll even roleplay as the characters if anyone wants to do so. But enough gushing about that.

Next time on More Days for Pyro: Blood, stress, and Ms. Pauling.  
Stay tuned!]


	27. Bait and Switch (Part 22)

"Pauling."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"When was the last time you did an inspection of the RED base?"

"Several months ago, ma'am."

"Don't you think it's about time you did another?"

"Of course, Administrator. I'll be right there."

"Good. Surveilance is key, Ms. Pauling. Never forget that."

"Yes, ma'am."

.

"Oh man, oh man, oh man," Scout said for about the 69th time. Engie would have shut him up, but he was still in shock. The last time Pyro had come out of respawn as something not human, they had almost died. Was Merasmus back? Were they going to die again? Would his heart be able to take it if they did?

It was Medic who finally stood up, putting a stop to the chaos. "Engineer, give Pyro to me."

"No way in hell!" Scout said. "You'd probably tear 'is lungs out an' replace 'em with balloons!"

"I asshure you, I vill do nozhing of zhe sort. I just vant to inspect zhem. Vhile I am doing zhat, Engineer can look over zhe Respawn system und see if zhere is some way to correct zhis anomaly. Sound good?"

Engie nodded, not thinking. He stood up, handing Pyro to Medic despite Scout's protests. Wordless, he walked back to his room, his mind still spinning. He dug up the blueprints for respawn as soon as he sat down, and poured what little thought processes he had at the moment into looking over all the aspects of the respawn system. What was wrong with it that made it change Pyro so much? He had never really thought about looking into the system as the problem. Maybe they just needed to be taken out and put back in? Right now, that probably wasn't a good idea, unless he wanted them stuck as a kitten for the rest of their life.

 _Fix respawn. Fix respawn. Fix respawn._

.

Two days later, Scout kicked down the door of Engie's room. "HEY!" he yelled. The door had been locked for two days, and the team had seen neither hide nor hair of the Southerner since he'd fled to his room. Engie was still sitting at his desk, almost immobile. A messy pile of tissues, broken pencils, and blueprints lay on the floor next to him. The only indication that he was still alive was his right hand, which was slowly moving across the paper, writing notes at a tired, entranced pace. Scout shook the older man, but Engie didn't move.

"Engie!" Scout yelled, waving his hand in front of the Texan's face. When that didn't work, he grabbed the blueprint Engie was writing on and started to pull it away. This got Engie's attention, and he looked up at Scout with bleary, red eyes. Scout swore under his breath. "Shit, man, have you slept in two days? You look like shit." Engie shrugged.

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Scout said. "Ms. Pauling's on her way for a base inspection! She just called us half an hour ago, and everybody's freakin' out!"

"Where's Py?" Engie said, adrenaline and dread building in his chest. Scout grimaced. "He's still with Medic."

"Are they still…"

"Yeah."

"Shit."

"I know!"

"What are we gonna do?"

"You think I know?! You're the one who's supposed to be good at solvin' problems!"

"Yeah, practical ones, like teleporters and sentries! Not transmutation!"

Scout slumped against the door. "Have you got anything?'

"No. The only thing I can think of would be to shut down the system and start it up again, but that would take hours."

"Well, do it! He ain't gonna die while Ms. Pauling's around. Then you can fix'em when she leaves."

"But what are we gonna do while she's here?" Engie asked. Scout froze. "Shit."

"Just stall her. Tell her Pyro's not feeling well or something. Tell the others the same thing."

Scout nodded. "Got it." He ran off to tell the others, and Engie sat back, looking over his blueprints. He couldn't afford to stop working now, but he had no choice. The only thing he could do now was clean himself up and hope nothing catastrophic happened.

.

"Alright. Sniper, Demo, Soldier, Scout, Spy, and Heavy. On to Medic." Ms. Pauling checked off another box on her checklist as she walked towards Medic's lab. Scout rushed in front of her, blocking the door to Medic's room. "Uh, you might, uh, not want to go in there. Medic's uh...working on something! Something, uh, dangerous! And freaky! So, yeah, probably not a good idea to go in there."

"Scout," Pauling laughed. "After the bread monster, nothing surprises me around here. I'll be fine."

"Doc! She's coming in!" Scout yelled desperately. There was a clattering and a loud crash, and the door opened. Medic stepped out, an arm behind his back, blood splashed on his coat to make it look like he had been doing something. He chuckled nervously as Pauling looked him over.

"Ach, you heff caught me in zhe midst of an experiment, Miss Pauling! I apologize for the mess." He scooted over to Scout, elbowing him and sliding an arm behind his back. Scout tried not to look too surprised when Medic pressed the kitten to his back, letting it cling to his shirt. Scout looked up at Medic, who winked. Scout winked back, and then Medic walked back to his door. "Right zhis way, Miss Pauling."

As soon as the door was closed, Scout sprinted to Engie's room, the kitten in his arms. He burst through the door.

"Engie, you gotta hide us!"

"Why'd you bring them here?!" Engie asked. "She'll come here next, ya dumb kid!"

"Shit!" Scout squeaked as he heard Ms. Pauling coming down the hallway, joking with Medic about his messy room. He dove under the bed, hiding himself just Pauling opened the door.

"Hey, Engie," she said. "Looks like you could use some sleep."

"Yeah, I've been pretty focused the last few days," Engie said, trying to sound jovial. He rubbed his neck.

"You know, I know somebody who runs a coffee shop. I bet they know some good brews for workaholics."

"I don't think I'd call myself a _workaholic,_ ma'am. I just had somethin' I needed to work on, that's all."

"Well, make sure you get some rest. Your health is important."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, and one more question, Engie."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Why is there a kitten on your bed?"

There was a pause, and Engie turned pale as he saw the kitten sleeping on his bed. He sucked in a deep breath of air, closed his eyes, and sighed.

"Scout," he said, very softly. "You had one...fucking...job."

The next few seconds were a blur. Scout pulled himself out from under the bed, trying to rapidly explain. Engie started screaming at him. Ms. Pauling backed up, opening the door. In the confusion, the kitten jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. Once Scout realized the kitten was gone, he wrenched himself out of Engie's grasp and ran out of the door, chasing it down the hallway and back to the dining room. Pauling and Engie followed. When they got to the dining room, Scout started throwing chairs left and right, screaming for Engie to close the door. Engie closed the door, and Pauling rushed forward, flipping the huge meeting table with little effort. A pained mew erupted from under the table. The sound Scout made was barely human, let alone masculine. He pulled the table off the kitten, staring at its broken leg in horror.

"MEDIIIIIIIC!"

.

Ten minutes later, Medic was bandaging the kitten's leg, letting it rest on the table. Scout and Engie were trying to explain the whole mess to Ms. Pauling, who was trying her best not to laugh.

"So, wait. You think Pyro is that kitten?" She asked. Engie and Scout nodded. Pauling burst into laughter, and the two men looked at her, confused.

"Pyro's not a cat. They're probably back in their room by now."

"Huh?" Scout asked. Pauling shook her head, smiling as she explained.

"I was driving in on my scooter to come here, and suddenly this naked woman jumps out of the bushes at me! I just about shot her, but then when she started mumbling and trying to communicate without speaking, I realized it was Pyro! They seemed really confused, and didn't seem to know why they were out in the middle of the desert naked, so I pulled a stress blanket out of my scooter's storage compartment and draped it over them and took them back to my place so I could figure out what was going on. There's an issue with them and respawn, but the teleporting didn't really make sense. You should make sure you don't have any stray teleporters around your spawn, Engie."

 _So that's why there was nothing wrong with respawn,_ Engie thought. _It wasn't the problem in the first place!_

"Where are they now?" He asked. Pauling smiled. "I dropped them off in their room before I came to inspect everyone else's. I'm not sure why their room is a big dusty shack, but I can probably guess."

"They don't really sleep-" Scout started, but Engie shot out of his chair, rushing out of the room. He ran all the way out to Pyro's shack, forgetting that he hadn't slept in two days and wasn't in the best shape to begin with. He flung open the door so hard that the woman in front of him jumped. They spun around, looking at him with wide grey eyes. Their light brown hair hung over their shoulders, and the short purple dress they were wearing complimented them well, but he barely registered that as they ran towards him. "Engie!" They yelled, tackling him to the ground. "Pyro!" He yelled back, hugging them as tightly as he could. "Oh, god, I thought you were gone."

They shook their head, smiling at him. They pointed to themselves, then punched the ground next to him, then pointed to him. "I missed you too," he said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. They looked over his face, worried. They traced the bags under his eyes, and he sighed. "I thought the respawn system was broken, so I spent the last two days workin' on it and worryin' about you...pretty silly of me, huh?"

They shook their head. They didn't know how to put what they wanted to say into words. _It's not silly for you to be worried about me if you didn't know where I was,_ they thought. They knew that if he thought the respawn system was broken then it meant that he had thought that something terrible had happened to them. They lay on his chest, hugging him and kissing him on the cheek. He smiled slightly. "I'm just glad you're safe, Py." He felt them nod.

"Ah!" Pauling's voice came from the door of the cabin. In an instant Pyro and Engineer were off the ground and facing the young assistant. Engie stepped protectively in front of Pyro. "Sorry, ma'am. I know we ain't supposed to have workplace relationships. If one of us gets punished, it should be me, not Py."

"Punished?" Ms. Pauling said.

"I know what you did to Demo and the other Soldier," Engie said. "And we both know the same trick ain't gonna work twice. Do whatever you want to me, but leave Py alone."

"Engie…" Ms. Pauling started, stepping forward. "The only reason we split them up is because they were from other teams. We couldn't have cross-team relationships. People might talk."

"Oh." Engie said. There was a long pause.

"So them Py and I-"

"As long as it doesn't interfere with work, it's just fine," Pauling said, smiling. "The Administrator said that herself. Well, not in those words, with a lot more swearing and disapproval, but she got her point across and that's all that matters."

"You won't tell her about...us?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you and Pyro are just members of a closely-knit team. Anything more, and I'd have to tell the Administrator. Let's just forget this ever happened, ok?" She turned to walk out of the shack, but stopped, turning around and shooting Engie a grin. "Tell Scout I'll send down some cat food tomorrow, ok?"

"Thank you so much, ma'am," Engie said, smiling gratefully. She nodded, walking out of the shack and closing the door. As soon as she was gone, Engie swept Pyro into his arms, spinning them around. They giggled as he kissed them, then wobbled backwards. "Py, I'm gonna be honest with you, I am _dead tired_ and absolutely _starving_. You wanna go out somewhere for dinner?" They shrugged, pointing to the bags under his eyes. "You're right. I should sleep first. We'll eat in the morning. Sound good to you?"

They giggled, pressing a finger to his lips. He was babbling, a sure sign that he was tired. They wrapped his arm around their shoulders and walked back to his room, making sure he didn't fall asleep until they were both in bed. He kissed them goodnight before passing out under the covers.

Once they were sure he was asleep, they climbed out of bed, walking out to the bathroom and standing in front of one of the mirrors. They turned around, lifting the hair on the back of their neck and straining to see something out of the corner of their eye. They found a small hand mirror - probably Spy's - and held it up, inspecting their neck. There was a small string of numbers along their hairline, just barely visible. They leaned a little closer to the mirror to get a good look, and-

"Pyro?"

They set Spy's mirror down as Scout walked into the room. He smiled as he saw them. "Oh my god, I'm glad you're ok. We thought you were a cat."

They looked at him quizzically, and he blushed. "Ok, that's not the important part. The important part is that we were all worried about you and that I'm...I'm glad you're ok."

They stepped forward, hugging him. He was a little surprised at first, but then hugged them back. When they finally let go of him, he grinned playfully. "You wanna come see my new cat? He's really cute. I'm thinkin' 'a namin' him Cy, after Cy Young."

Pyro smiled, but shook their head. They made a sleeping motion with their hands.

"Oh! Yeah, I guess it's pretty late. I bet Engie's sleepin', huh?"

They nodded.

"And you wanna go join him. Ok. Alright. You, uh, go do that."

They smiled, hugging him again before walking out of the bathroom. He admired himself in the mirror before going off to bed. He knew Cy was already keeping the bed warm for him.

.

"Report."

"Everything is normal, Administrator. No anomalies with the base or the team."

"And what about the...subject? I understand you harbored them in your home for a few days."

"I didn't break confidentiality, ma'am. They know nothing about you or the Australium."

"You honestly expect me to believe you lived with them for two days and told them nothing about the experiments?"

"Ma'am, I-"

"Don't you _ma'am_ me! Don't you realize that there is more than the Australium at stake? If they realize what they truly are, they might lose all resolve to fight, and then where would our men be? If they knew that we've seen them, hiding in corners, dodging the others, doing things when they thought nobody else was looking, then they might turn on us! The only thing that keeps those men obedient is the fact that they have something to fight for, and that we control what they have to fight for. A mercenary with nothing to fight for is a loose cannon, waiting for a revolution!"

"They do have something to fight for, ma'am."

"What?"

"They've become...attached. To another member of the team. It won't interfere with their work, but it will give us some leverage if we need to use it."

"Really? Excellent. Keep them under surveillance, Ms. Pauling. Let us see if we can get anything useful out of this defective unit."

"Yes, Administrator."

"Good. Now get out of my sight."

* * *

[Author's Note: The real question of this chapter: Was I originally going to have Pyro be the kitten and have Ms. Pauling shoot them and make them go through respawn and then I changed my mind at the last second, or did I use a cliffhanger to make you all _think_ Pyro was in danger? The world may never know!

Hoo boy am I glad tomorrow's President's Day.

I've got a few more ideas to keep this thing going, though I am still thinking of ending it off sooner or later. It's gone on pretty long. _Eight Mercinaries and A Toddler_ was only 18 chapters, _I'll Be Home for the Holidays_ was 25 _Machines Don't Bleed_ was 38, and _A Snowflake in Spring_ was 29, so my fic is pretty close to being as long as those magnificent works. (Yeah I know one of those is not like the others but it's cute so sue me.) I'm still working on ideas for the ending and how I should introduce the big twist/explanation of this series, but I can't explain my thought process without giving away the surprise! So I guess you'll just have to wait until next weekend. ;P

If you want to read some stuff by me that's _not_ Team Fortress 2, I've got a WattPad under the same username as my FanFiction account. My new story, _TeenDangers,_ is up there now, and very slowly being updated. Go check it out if you want!

Stay tuned!]


	28. Two Days ago (part 32)

_Two Days Ago_ …

"Make yourself at home. I'll go see if I've got anything in the fridge."

Pyro sat down on the couch, the stress blanket still wrapped around them. They looked around Ms. Pauling's apartment with curiosity. It was a bright, cozy space that had obviously been decorated by someone with good taste, but it didn't look lived-in. The only things that looked used were the microwave and a long section of couch.

After a few minutes, Pauling walked back over with a cup of coffee. "Here. Drink this. You'll feel better." Pyro took the mug with bare hands, which reminded Pauling that they were still sitting there in the nude. "Oh! Here, I might have some clothes that fit you. Hang on a sec." She dashed off into her room, leaving Pyro alone again. A few minutes and half a cup of coffee later, she came back with a bundle of clothes, setting them down on the couch next to Pyro.

"There's a shower in the other room if you wanna wash up," she said. "I'll work on dinner."

Pyro nodded, rifling through the bundle of clothes for an outfit they liked before heading into the shower. The shower here was much nicer than the ones back at the base, and the warm water was more soothing and less angry. Pyro spent more time than they probably should have in there, because by the time they were dressed and back in the living room, Pauling was sitting there with some takeout. "I usually just order food for myself," she explained. "Is this ok?"

Pyro nodded, smiling as they sat down and grabbed a box of food. There was silence for a good twenty minutes as both of them focused on eating, but then Pauling spoke up.

"Do you know sign language?" she asked. "I mean, you don't talk, so I thought you might have learned…"

Pyro shook their head, blushing slightly. Pauling jumped up, running over to her bookcase. "I don't have the actual alphabet, but an aunt of mine gave me this book forever ago...here!" She grabbed a bright green book off the shelf and walked back to the couch, handing it to Pyro. _Baby Sign Language?_ Pyro thought, reading the cover. They looked back up at Pauling, confused.

"Yeah, I know, it's weird, but I thought it might help! It's really simple, so you should be able to pick it up."

It seemed odd to Pyro that Pauling seemed to know that they couldn't communicate. They made a shrugging motion, then made an X with their hands, then pointed to themselves, then made a mouthing motion with their right hand.

"Why can't you talk? I'm afraid...that's classified."

Pyro scooted closer towards her on the couch.

"Pyro, I can't...it's not that simple. You just weren't meant to talk."

Pyro scooted closer.

"What I mean is, it's not programmed...not programmed, but...ok, ok, fine!" Pyro was almost on top of her now. "I'll tell you tomorrow. I promise.. But you have to swear to me you won't tell anyone."

"Engie?" They asked. Pauling hid her surprise fairly well.

"No. Not even Engie."

Pauling let Pyro have the bed in her room that night. The bed felt like it was fresh out of the furniture store, but it was surprisingly comfortable. Pyro slept well, though they did worry about Engie.

The next day, Pauling put Pyro on the back of her scooter and drove for what seemed like ages. They passed through the city, past skyscrapers and hotdog stands and one particular coffee shop that Pauling turned to look at on the way. They drove through the desert until the sun was high in the sky. When they finally came to a stop, they were in a heavily wooded area that was slightly colder than the dust bowl. Pine trees surrounded them, and Pyro started to get the strangest sense of deja vu. Pauling parked the bike next to a big stone building and stood up, twirling a ring of keys around her fingers nervously. They walked up into the building, and Pyro couldn't help but notice how dead the place was. Dustbowl was home. Dustbowl was full of scratches and dents from daily battles. This place, however, was covered in dust, as if nobody had set foot in it in years. They started walking down a flight of stairs that seemed to go on forever.

"You know," Pauling said, filling the silence. "Sometimes I forget you aren't some kid. Sometimes I treat you like a baby because of the way you act in that suit. But you're not. You're really not."

"Huh?" Pyro vocalized.

"How long have you been with Team Fortress?" Pauling asked monotonously. Pyro shrugged.

"Where were you before you came here?"

Pyro gave no reply. They were struggling to remember. They did have a home, right? Somewhere with lots of pine trees and grey buildings. They remembered that much.

"Whatever you're remembering right now...well, just wait and see." Pauling shuddered at her own cowardice. It would be so easy to just say it. It would mean the same thing for them anyway.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Pauling stepped towards the only door around. She unlocked it, then turned to Pyro.

"Whatever you see in here, whatever you hear, it's absolutely top-secret. Guard the knowledge with your life." Her face was so solemn and serious that Pyro nearly winced. They nodded at her, and she turned around, opening the door.

They walked through a long hallway filled with locked doors. Each door had a label on it. _Conagher. Mundy. Ludwig._ The names meant nothing to Pyro at the moment, but they must have had some significance, because Pauling passed them as quickly as possible. They stopped in front of a door labeled _Pyro_ , and here Pauling turned to Pyro again.

"Brace yourself," she said, before opening the door.

They stepped into a darker hallway filled with tubes. Pyro couldn't quite tell what was in each tube, but a large computer sat at the end of the hallway, and there were wires everywhere. Pauling stepped towards the computer, pressing a few buttons on it, and the tubes lit up one by one. Each tube had the same person in it: a wide man with a large nose, a rectangular face, and squashed features. Pyro's heart stopped as a wave of understanding hit them.

 _It's…_ _ **me**_.

All of the men in the tubes. They were them...him? This was what they were supposed to look like. This was who they were supposed to be. But...why didn't them look like the men in the tubes? They turned to Pauling with wide eyes, pointing to themselves.

"Yes, Pyro. They're all clones. _You're_ all clones."

 _Clones?_

"It's a long story. To sum it up, the original Pyro agreed to have clones of him made when he died of cancer from all the asbestos in his suit. You were all meant to be interchangeable. But you're different, Pyro. You came back from respawn differently each time. The Administrator wanted to throw you out and start over with a new clone, but I convinced her to let you stay, to let us study you. If we could figure out what was wrong with you, we could improve the clones. We've figured it out. There's a glitch in your genetic coding. Our respawn system works with reproductive cloning. Generally, the Medi-Gun focuses on therapeutic cloning, replacing injured limbs and tissues as quickly as possible. Respawn, however, replaces the whole body in the span of a few seconds. It's an incredibly complicated process that I can't really explain that well in a short amount of time, so I'll shorten it for you: instead of respawning you from the same somatic cell every time, which is what happens with everyone else, there's some sort of mutation happening with the somatic cell we use to clone you that makes you come out of respawn as another person. There's also the fact that, even if your somatic cell _wasn't_ mutated, you'd still look slightly different because of differences in chromosomes. So that combined with your mutated somatic cell is what makes you come out of respawn differently. Get it?"

Pyro hesitated, then shook their head. Pauling shrugged, laughing to herself. "I guess it does sound a little crazy. But that's the long-and-short of it. At least with respawn you won't have to worry about telomeres."

Pyro cocked their head in confusion.

"Telomeres are the ends of chromosomes. In a normal person, they shrink at a normal rate, and when they get too small, the person dies. Since you're a clone, though, your telomeres shrink at twice the rate or a normal person's. So if, say, you were to leave Team Fortress and stop respawning for the rest of your life, you'd have about half the lifespan of an average human. You'd die in at 39 and a half instead of 79."

Pyro nodded. That would put a damper on things.

"Of course, we don't really know what'll happen if you leave Team Fortress until you try to leave, which would be really weird. Don't plan on leaving anytime soon."

They nodded sadly. They cocked their head again, pointing to their mouth.

"We, uh…" she rubbed her neck. "We tried to change some of the genes so that the clones wouldn't have the ability to speak, as a safety measure. But fine-tuning something like that isn't easy, and you can only get so far with psychological training. You've been trained from day one to avoid communication, and the fact that you can say a few words is amazing. It means we've got to work harder on our fine-tuning, though. But I think, if you really did want to talk to your teammates, and you really did want to communicate, you could do it. It'd be hard, though, and I doubt you'd ever come anywhere close to talking like a normal person. That's part of why I think sign language would be good for you to learn."

They nodded again, turning to the door. Pauling walked up to them, resting a hand on their shoulder. "I know it's a lot to take in," she said. "But it's better for you to find out this way. I mean, it'd suck for you to find out in some sort of dramatic climax where I end up having to kill you because you know too much, right?"

Pyro's eyes immediately flicked down to Pauling's hands. One was hidden behind her back.

"Pyro, I'm going to be honest with you. According to the Administrator's orders, I should be shooting you where you stand. But I want to study you more, Pyro. I want to pinpoint exactly where we went wrong. So when the day comes and we need to make some more clones, I know how to fix the mistakes we made with you."

She pulled her other hand out, spinning her keys and smiling. "Gee, that's a little dark, huh? Don't worry. C'mon, let's get out of here. I know a great cafe back in town."

They walked back down the hallway, and Pyro stopped in front of the door that said _Conagher_. Pauling turned back to look. "What? There's nothing in there but a bunch of blueprints and file cabinets. C'mon."

The sun was setting by the time they got back to the scooter, but Pyro had never felt more awake. Their head was spinning, and it kept spinning for the rest of the night. They noticed how similar the cafe looked to Pauling's apartment, and they noticed how friendly Pauling and the owner of the cafe were, but those things just got added to the stack of information their brain was currently processing. Their brain didn't stop buzzing until they lay down and fell asleep in Pauling's bed.

The next day, Pyro found a purple dress they liked and slipped it on before heading out to look at Ms. Pauling's books. They found the baby sign language book and tucked it under their arm, sitting on the couch to read it. Pauling was still asleep, and Pyro couldn't help but smile at how nice and innocent she looked. They weren't really attracted to her (especially not after last night), but they could appreciate a cute sleeper when they saw one. They flicked through the book, practicing a few words. They held up one of their hands and stuck out their thumb, index finger, and pinkie finger, shaking their hand slightly. "Engie," they said softly, then made the sign.

"Practicing, huh?" Pauling said sleepily. They looked down at her, and she sat up, stretching. "I haven't slept this well in forever. It's a wonder I haven't gotten any work the past two days."

Pyro smiled at her politely, and the woman stood up. "Alright. I'll make breakfast, and then we'll get you back to base. I bet the guys are worried about you, huh?"

Pyro nodded, feeling a pang in their chest. What was Engie doing? Was he sleeping? Was he eating properly? Was he worrying himself into a tizzy over them? They hoped not, though they knew their hopes were probably in vain.

After breakfast (Ms. Pauling had a box of granola bars and an unopened container of yogurt in the fridge), the two went out to the scooter, Pyro still carrying the baby sign language book. The ride down was silent, and took way too long, but eventually they got there. Pauling dropped Pyro off by their shack, and they walked inside, setting the baby book down on the mattress and sitting beside it. It had been so long since they had been in here, and the place was starting to gather dust. Something felt odd about being here and not with Engie, but Pauling had told them to wait here while she assessed the damage. They flicked through the book, standing up and facing the wall as they practiced different signs. Suddenly, the door slammed open behind them, and they spun around, trying to hide their horror at the bedraggled Engie in the doorway. He looked like he hadn't slept in two days, and their heart throbbed as they ran towards him, tackling him to the ground.

"Engie!"

* * *

[Author's Note: Well, there you go. There's the twist to the series. Pyro's been a defective clone the whole time.

I kind of wanted to do this in a more dramatic way, but that would have involved moving the characters to a different base and then making them quite Team Fortress immediately after finding about about Pyro, and I didn't want to do that. This, I think, is a good compromise.

I actually did my research on human cloning and the problems with it while writing this chapter. I wish I still had a link to the particular source (not Wikipedia, I promise you), but FanFiction'd probably just break it anyway.

I picked baby sign language for Pyro to learn because (in my opinion) it's less complicated, easier to learn (I mean, come on, it's for _babies_ ), and better in general for Pyro's character. I know it has a smaller vocabulary than regular sign language (and no amount of hand gestures could indicate words like _sentry_ or _respawn_ ), but a smaller vocabulary would be better for Pyro in the long run if they plan on learning how to speak despite their physical and psychological limitations. I'll write more about the block on the official ODFP tumblr (that's asknonbinarypyronfriends once again, ladeis and gentlemen), because I don't want to clog up this chapter with one long AN.

The next chapter is more emotional bc I'm reading _Brainbent_ right now and it's amazing, and  exactly the kind of inspiration I need for writing Scout. I'm also in the middle of sewing a FUSB by hand. Because _creating things is awesome._

Stay tuned!]


	29. Your Name is Jeremy

Your name is Jeremy, and you are not doing well.

It is Sunday, and you're listening to Ms. Pauling talk about Pyro, and you're feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you realize that they aren't a kitten, and then the dread sets in as you realize you might not get to keep your newest little friend. Once Engie is gone, you ask Ms. Pauling if it's ok to have a pet on base, and she sighs and looks at you and sees how tired you are and smiles, and her smile lights up the room and turns off every little signal and task in your brain until all you can think about is her. And she nods her head gently and your chest feels warm and she's the most gracious person in the world. And then she stands up and leaves the room, and you're left with the residue of her aura until it fades away and Medic asks if you're ok.

It is Tuesday night, and the kitten-you've named him Cy-is lying in bed with you, and you feel almost as warm as you did when Ms. Pauling smiled at you, but not quite the same level of warmth. You feel happy to have something smaller than you, something you get to protect, something to call your own. The voices in your head are saying something to you, but it's nearly impossible to tell exactly what because you're tired and focused on not crushing Cy in your sleep.

It is some time in the middle of the night, and your face is wet from the water you've splashed on it, and you're trying to hide your sobs so nobody else hears you, and all you can think about is the panic attack that woke you from a peaceful slumber and how you came _this close_ to hurting yourself again. You try not to think about how long it took you to notice the knife in your hand before it was resting on your skin, but the image is burned into your skull, along with a thousand others that all vy for attention at once and never stop. You just wish you could have one moment of peace, one moment of quiet where everything is silent and you can concentrate on one thing at a time like a normal person does.

It is early in the morning, and you are out of bed for a second time. You clutch the phone like a lifeline, begging the person on the other end to pick up. She does, and the fact that she sounds tired but not half-asleep this early in the morning stabs you in the chest and sends another thousand thoughts spinning through your head. She asks you why you're up so early, how your job has been, and if everything is ok, and you manage to answer the second question without fear of crying. She asks the third question again after the tears start running down your face, almost as if she can hear them. You struggle to tell her, but you hardly understand anything yourself, you never have. She waits for you to sob out a few words of explanation before shushing you and telling you that it's alright, that she's only a phone call away, and that if you can't reach her she can give you your eldest brother's phone number because he's some sort of fancy psychologist now and he can help you. You fight the urge to tell her that talking to your know-it-all eldest brother about your problems is about as appealing an idea as talking to Spy. Her voice sounds so far away over the phone, and you're reminded of how far you are from home, how far away you are from warmth and comfort and your mother's lullabys. You almost start to cry again as you remember the way she'd make sure you got a serving of dinner when you didn't get lunch at school, the way she'd set aside a special portion just for you when you were sick, knowing how hard it was to compete with your brothers. You ask her if, just this once, she'll sing to you. She is modest, and tells you she's never liked her singing voice, that she's never thought it was very pretty, and you tell her that it was beautiful to you, that it was the most beautiful sound in the world to you. She thanks you for the flattery, and then she starts singing, and her voice is hot soup and warm blankets and rubbed foreheads and it both breaks your heart and dries your tears at the same time. You hear the imperfections in her voice now, you were ignorant to them as a kid, but you understand her modesty about her voice now, even though you still think she's the best singer you've ever heard. You thank her, voice heavy, and she tells you she has to go to her first job of the day because, even though almost everyone has moved out, she wants to help the neighbourhood kids who aren't fortunate enough to have able-bodied parents who can work four jobs a day. You tell her she's the kindest woman you know, and you mean it. Ms. Pauling makes your head spin and your thoughts quieten, but your mother is like an angel to you. She tells you to get some rest, and you tell her to do the same, and once you've said your goodbyes you're still clinging to the phone with white hands, not noticing the smell of cigarette smoke coming from down the hallway.

It is Wednesday afternoon, and you sat out of battle today, saying that you didn't feel well and needed to rest. You faked sick enough for Medic to be concerned, but once he realized your red eyes and dripping nose weren't from a cold he smiled at you and let you have one day off to rest. You walked around the base once everyone was gone, taking in how empty it was, and for once your thoughts were number today. For once in your life, you didn't hear any screaming, any death wishes, any swears or self-depreciation. You went to the kitchen and made yourself breakfast, and then lunch. You let Cy explore the base, and he didn't try to run off this time because Ms. Pauling had the cat food at your bedroom door this morning. You retreat to your room as soon as the others come back, still feeling miserable, and you stare at your ceiling until Engineer comes in with a bowl of hot soup and some dumb Texan sayings about ill health. You act aloof to get him out of the room quickly, but once he is gone you sit up and eat the soup, your mood lighting a bit as it warms you up. Cy curls up next to you, and you rub his head, smiling a bit. His meowing, combined with the soup (which tastes oddly foreign and not like your mom's at all), gives you the strength to pull yourself out of your room and walk into the kitchen with your empty bowl, trying not to be too obvious when you ask for more. You end up sitting down on the couch in the kitchen, Pyro's blanket wrapped around you as they sit on the floor and play with Cy, and you try to ignore the questioning stares Medic shoots you from his knitting needles. Normally you would mock him for such a hobby, but you're still tired. You don't notice Spy's look of concern as he sets the second bowl of soup on a small table in front of you, and you ignore Sniper's polite greeting as he walks in to talk to Spy. Once the soup is gone, you realize you hardly remember eating it, and cast a quick glance around the couch to make sure you didn't just spill it. You eat a third bowl of soup before standing up and starting to move back to your room. Spy offers to help you, but you brush him off with an angry look. You don't notice the disappointed way he shrinks back, or the hand Sniper puts on his shoulder as he tells him to let you be alone just a little bit longer.

It is Thursday morning, and you feel much better. You sit up and stretch, marveling at how much lighter your body feels. You pet Cy as you get ready, and once you're sure he'll stay in the room without wandering around, you head out to the kitchen to meet the others. A hush falls over the room as you walk in, and everyone looks at you as if they expect you to collapse on the spot. You shoot them all a smile and a witty remark, and they all relax, glad to see you back to your normal state. In battle that day, you wonder why everything smells like cigarette smoke, and why the BLU sentries never seem to get sapped very often unless you get close to them, but neither of those things confuse you as much as Engie making dinner two nights in a row. You shrug all of those thoughts off, dismissing them as stupid shit you don't need to be worrying about. You've got enough clogging your skull, you don't need to be worrying about things that don't matter.

It is Thursday night, and you see Spy hanging out by the phone on your way to bed. He looks unusually anxious, as if he doesn't want to call the person whose number he's about to dial. You throw a sarcastic "scaredy-cat" remark at him, and he mutters something about a _chaton_ that you almost understand but don't really listen to. You shrug and leave him be, and he goes back to his contemplating until Sniper sees him and tells him to stop being such a pussy about it, and you laugh at two cat insults in a row. The thought carries you to an easy rest.

Your name is Jeremy, and you are doing better.

* * *

[Author's Note: I wrote this chapter in a different style after reading one of the Gamzee stories from Brainbent. I like the flow of this writing, but it also makes paragraphs seem longer than the actually are. I thought this was longer than 1,694 words o(╥﹏╥)o

I do want to say, again, that I have no experiences with panic attacks, and I don't know as much about schizophrenia or self-harm as I would like to, but I will gladly accept feedback and advice from anyone who knows these topics better than I do. I really don't want to offend anyone with my writing because I didn't write a mental illness correctly (looking at you, Split). What I've heard about panic attacks is that they can strike at random moments, and I wanted to put that in. Also I thought Scout needed to talk to his mom. Spy needs to talk to her, too, but that'll probably happen off-camera.

The next chapter is the last one in the series. It's a bit of an abrupt ending, but I think it ties everything up well and sets up the story for the comics to pick up. Besides, the events that set up the comics were pretty abrupt, y'know?

I just hope I'll figure out what fandom to write for once this is done. It's either find a new fandom and start a new fic or finish my old TF2 highschool AU one. We'll see what happens.

Stay tuned!]


	30. The End (Final Chapter)

Your name is Ms. Pauling, and you don't know how to feel right now. When you first saw the Administrator's warning to hide, you were terrified. You didn't know where she was. You didn't know what to do with yourself. You'd been following her orders for so long, you were unsure of what to do without a boss and a task list. First, you told the others about losing their jobs, which was harder than it sounded. Telling the closely-knit group of men that they would soon be going back to their homes (for those who had homes to go back to, that is) was heartbreaking. You'd been watching these men for years, and you'd never seen them all look so conflicted. Once that was done, however, you went back to your apartment, noticing for the first time how empty it was. It felt like a prison cell rather than a home. You lay on your couch for a good half an hour, and then you called your girlfriend, knowing you could count on her to make you feel better. She told you to come down to the cafe, and now here you sit, sipping coffee and trying to tell her your problems without telling her too much about your job. When you finish, she takes your hands in hers and tells you you'd be welcome to stay with her. You realize that you have the freedom to do so now. You don't have to worry about the Administrator breathing down your neck, you don't have to worry about getting enough jobs done to cover up a significant other, you are free to relax and actually spend time with her. You gleefully accept, and you hug her, and you nearly knock over your cup of coffee, but she laughs and her laugh makes everything better.

Your name is Dell Conagher, and you are nervous for the first time in your life. When you heard you were losing your job, your first thought was Pyro. Namely, where would they go, and would they be alright? You have already been offered another job with Blu Mann, and it feels like a promotion. You feel happy to be continuing your grandfather's work, but something about the whole situation feels off. The biggest thing that bothers you about the job is that you'll have to wear blue instead of your usual red attire. You've always thought that you looked better in red, and it seems silly to have a color-restricted dress code, but it's a job, and you aren't complaining. You just hope you'll be able to stay in contact with Pyro. Overworking yourself will always be an issue, but you feel like the depression won't be as bad now that you aren't fighting a never ending war. You and Pyro leave together, and you see only happy futures ahead of you.

Your name is Mr. Ludwig, and you don't want to leave. You have too many gadgets and experiments here to take with you, and you can't decide what to bring and what to destroy. All of your birds are coming with you, obviously, but their coop will take up a lot of room in the taxi. You aren't worried about a plane; you have a new job close by that will transport you where you need to go. It feels a little odd to stay in mercenary work when everyone else is leaving, but your experiments won't pay for themselves. The only other thing holding you back is Heavy. Yes, you told him you would visit him, but you honestly don't know if you'll be able to do so. You did, however, promise to write, and that is a promise you plan on keeping. You are one of the last to leave the base, after making sure Pyro and Engineer leave, and you are the one who turns off all the lights.

Your name is Misha, and you feel eager. Yes, you know you are going to miss the men and the fighting and Sasha, but you get to go back home to your sisters and your mother. You look over your room, which has been seeing less and less of you as days go by and you spend more time with Medic, and you know that you will not miss it. You will miss your Doktor, but he has already assured you that he will visit you once he finishes with his job. For now, all you want to do is go back to your homeland and your family. You have spent far too long on an obsession with guns and bullets. You want to do something with your brain for a change. You want to do something with your Ph.D. Hell, maybe you'll even learn how to play poker. You are one of the first to leave the base, after bidding Medic a passionate goodbye. You make sure he does not see your watering eyes as you leave.

Your name is Mr. Mundee, and you feel torn. You don't want to leave Spy, but you do want to go back to your parents. It's been too long since you've seen them, and you have a bad feeling about going home and finding them dead. You push off those thoughts as you see Spy walking towards your van, fully packed. You open the doors and he climbs in the back, and for a minute the two of you just stare at each other. He tells you he's booked a ticket to France, you tell him you're going back to Australia. He jokes about you being unable to sell the van, and you swear at him and assure him you've got a friend looking after her. He tells you about his phone call last night, and you pat him on the back and congratulate him on his bravery. He doesn't smile. You hug him, and you tell him to call you if he ever wants to talk, and you tell him not to leave you hanging like he did with his last lover, and he laughs at that, but his laugh is somewhat sad and you can't help but feel worried for him. You want to remind him that he can't keep running away from his problems, but you know he's heard it from you before and he's gotten enough shit about it from his own consciousness. You give him one last smile before he walks out to his car, and as you see him talking to Scout, you lie back on your bed, and you take in the smell of your van. It smells like piss and cigarettes, and you already miss him.

Your name is Jeremy, and you are surprisingly relieved. Finally, you can go home to your mom. No more waking up at five am to go shoot somebody in the face. No more hiding panic attacks from the other guys. No more gross ration food. Sure, your arms are broken now from arm wrestling Soldier, but arms heal, and you know your mom'll help you. You can't wait to take over some of her jobs so she can relax. She deserves a break, and she needs someone to remind her to take one. When you see Spy leaving, you freak out. You were planning on having him drive you to Teufort before he left so you could get all the Tom Jones memorabilia you bought with the money you earned working with Team Fortress. His glare makes your heart sink, and all you can think about is how hard you worked for all that money, and how happy your mom would have been to see all the money that came in once Tom Jones died. The thought of all that stuff sitting in a bank vault for a billion years pisses you off. Luckily, you already sent Cy Young ahead of you on a smaller plane to surprise your mom, but you hadn't thought ahead with the Tom Jones stuff and now you're pleading with Spy to take you to the bank. It almost looks like he's gonna drive off and leave you there, but when you mention your mom, he sighs like a tired father and agrees to take you. You cheer, and you don't notice the way he avoids your gaze the whole car ride.

Your name is Jane Doe, and you are confident. You are going to live in your old roommate Merasmus' castle, and you are going to raise so many raccoons that they will worship you as their god and you will be known as Jane Doe, king of raccoons. Of course, you'll need money to feed all the raccoons and run a proper raccoon kingdom, but you don't worry about that. You're sure money will come from somewhere, just like it does when you fight those robots. You chuckle to yourself as you gather your things, but then you look across the hallway and you see Demo struggling to get everything packed. He seems to be taking his time on purpose, and you yell across the hallway that he has nothing to worry about, that he will return home a hero, and that if all else fails, he can always come and be your raccoon queen, or prince, whichever he prefers. He laughs and tells you you're a great friend, and you beam. You could not be more proud of this moment.

Your name is Tavish DeGroot, and you dread going home. Soldier's jokes only lift your spirits so much. You know that home is only your mother and your crazy sword, along with endless amounts of beer and crappy television. Fighting every day gave you something to live for, and now you can't see a future ahead of you. You know it'll just be work from here on out. Yes, this was a job, but it didn't feel like a job; it felt like a life. As you pack your bags, you try to cheer yourself up. Things will be better now. You'll be able to go fight the Loch Ness monster or something. All your efforts prove useless, though, and you soon find yourself waiting on a taxi to the airport, looking at the other men going home. They all share the same sense of dread, but some of them look more hopeful than others, and their hope leeches into you. You smile as the plane takes off, hoping to see them all again someday.

You are known by many names, and you have a plan. Some may call it running away, but you see it as regrouping. You already know where you're going. You'll stay in Paris for awhile, figure out who you are now, perhaps do some work, and when the time is right you'll either go back to Sniper or to Scout. You hope it will be easier to decide once you've been alone for awhile. Having his constant presence around you has clouded your judgement. You managed to call her last night, after spending weeks by the phone in deep thought. It was so easy, easier than you had anticipated, and you feel silly for waiting so long. She wasn't home, and you left her a message explaining yourself, telling her about Scout and his kitten, and explaining your plan. You told her you loved her, you told her you missed her, and you told her you would call again soon. You know those are lies, but you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you didn't say them to her. When Scout comes to your car with pleas and a mention of her, you know there is nothing you can do. Helping him is what she would want. You only hope it doesn't get you in any further trouble.

You have no name, and you are terrified. The things Ms. Pauling told you when she explained what you were float through your mind. You wonder if you're going to die the second Engie turns off respawn. When he does, you hold your breath, and he chuckles with relief when nothing happens. You nearly fall into his arms, and he rubs your head. You have a heart-shaped face and grey eyes and brown hair that curls, and you're wearing the purple dress that Ms. Pauling let you keep. As you pack what little you have and climb into Engie's truck, you think about your future. With Engie going off to his new job, you wonder if he'll have time for you. Will he still love you now that you're not the only woman available to him? Now that he can go out and find someone new? You don't follow that train of thought for long, for once you're both in the truck he leans over and kisses you. He pulls something out of his pocket, and it's a thick metal ring he welded himself. He apologizes that it's not very shiny or pretty, but you scream with delight and kiss him, slipping the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly, and you wonder how he knew the right size. As you drive off into the desert, you take one last look at the base, and the shack that was once yours, and you know that this is no longer a part of your life.

Your name is Jaehee Kang, and you feel happier than ever before. You were worried at first when your girlfriend came to your cafe with a worried expression and told you she had been fired from your job, but once she agreed to live and work with you your heart soared. She is lying next to you in bed now, and you smile at her sleeping face. She looks peaceful, almost as if she hasn't slept this well in years. It took a good cup of tea to get her to rest, and some intense persuasion to keep her from cleaning your entire cafe overnight and refusing sleep. You are glad that she is with you now. You know that she will soon realize how much better life is without an overbearing boss breathing down your neck, and how good it feels to be able to go to bed at a reasonable hour every night. You know you'll have to close the cafe tomorrow to teach her everything, but you don't mind. She is the best thing that ever happened to you, and it'd mean something awful if she were to leave you.

Your name is Cy Young, and this change is strange to you. One moment you were in your room with your big hairless brother, the next you were in a box in a noisy dark room. You can hear other animals around you, and you call out to them, asking if they know what's going on, but they respond with the same fearful confusion. You wait in the dark room for what feels like an eternity before finally being brought out into the light. A woman with black hair picks up your box and smiles at you. She tells you that she is your new mother, and that she will take care of you. She takes you to a noisy house in a noisier city, and lets you sleep on the bed in her room. You investigate the place at night, once all the children are asleep, and you like your new home. It's not too different from your old one, and you'll be alright waiting here until your brother comes.

You are the BLU team, and you are dead. You never really had a life to begin with. The RED Pyro was not the only clone around, but they were the only clone who was allowed to leave. The entire BLU team is wiped out by Ms. Pauling after she tells the REDs they have no job, but none of you particularly resent her for it. You are all free to be together in the afterlife. Some relationships will improve. Spy and Medic will grow to hate each other less once they realize that they can both be with Sniper in heaven. Heavy will become friends with Medic. Engineer, now that he is dead, will become a happier person, and will take a fatherly role towards Scout and Pyro, whose passionate love will become the stuff of legends. Demo and Sol will go on numerous adventures as ghosts, and will do it without fear of feelings or sexuality. All in all, all of you are happy, even though you didn't do much in your life. Better to die and stay together than live and be split apart.

Your name is Lily, and you don't know what you're going to do with your life. When you first started this fic, it was to get over the ending of _Machines Don't Bleed_ , the end of a series which seriously rocked your world and changed your views on fanfiction. You had thought that it was a bunch of poorly written X Reader stuff from what you came across on Quotev during your _Homestuck_ days, but _Eight Mercenaries and a Toddler_ was one of the few fanfics you had read throughout your career that made you go "wow, this is amazing, I should read more fanfic". You're still reading and saving a ton of things to your phone, and constantly shift between having too many fics and not enough time to read them and all the time in the world but no saved fics to read. You honestly have no idea if you're going to write another fanfic after this one. You're struggling to get your WattPad off the ground, and you're thankful that this fic has _some_ amount of attention. You think back on all the time you spent looking for ideas, thinking long and hard about characters, hiding the corner of your chromebook screen when teachers walked by so they wouldn't ask you what "Pyro Stuff" meant. You still laugh at how one teacher mistook you for working on an essay during study hall and rewarded you for your hard work. You've put a lot into this story, and while you know that there are several things you could have fixed, you feel alright about not fixing them. Your fic is only a month old, so you know you can't expect much on the Tumblr ask blog at the moment, and that's ok. You know that patience is the key to success. On that thought, you sigh. Before _One Day for Pyro_ , you were convinced that you could never write fanfiction without coming up with your own characters, and now that you're done with _More Days for Pyro_ you wonder what fandom you'll write for next. Writing is more than a passion for you; it's a physical need. You _need_ to write the same way people _need_ to breathe. You remind yourself that you've got an RP and an original story to get off the ground, and you sigh again, knowing that your writing days are not over. You decide not to write an author's note for this last chapter, mostly because you wouldn't know what to say other than _thank you for your support_ and _I hope to write again on this website soon_ , but you hope that all of your readers, whether they be reading this as soon as it gets posted or months ( _years,_ even) in the future, know that you are truly grateful for the support they've given this crazy story. You smile, glad you'll never have to worry about misspelling "mercinaries" or "ciggarette" ever again, and finish writing your paragraph. You are happy.

 **The End**

 **Well, for the fic, at least. I'm sure you all know where the comics pick up.**


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